Future's Rebirth
by Titanic X
Summary: The Apocalypse led to the downfall of many nations. Nuclear fire destroyed others, and no one was left unaffected. Panem now controls North America, and Europe is starting to rebuild. But in Asia, a confederation born from the past is about to reclaim the future for the world's remnants... or everything will be lost in the darkness. Companion fic to "Haus der Toten" by BamItsTyler.
1. After the Fall

_The Apocalypse._

 _That is what many people have come to call the bloody nuclear war that ended most life on Earth as we know it._

 _And with it, went everything humanity has worked for._

 _With the end of the world, humanity had to piece itself back together. Many countries were wiped off the face of the Earth and new ones were forged from the fires of the aftermath. I should know. My country was one of the lucky ones, though. Aside from Britain and Switzerland, of which both suffered very little damage._

 _The rest of the world was not so lucky._

 _During the course of the war, many people from China, South Korea, India, Vietnam, Russia, and even_ Germany _fled to our borders. Even Americans came, bringing with them several ships to try and save them for historical purposes. The most people who came though were primarily Chinese, fearing the fallout from the war. And they had good reason, too, as China took the brunt of the impact from the bloody missiles. We finally had to slam the borders shut after we suffered a 300% increase in population. But we did at least allow some remaining families to come before they were closed for good._

 _After the war came to an end, the climate shifted drastically, altering in ways we're still trying to adapt to and understand. That included increasing the amount of rain in the bush territory, or what outsiders refer to as the Outback. Surprisingly, contrary to popular belief, while we are vulnerable to flooding and loss of territory from it, we gained a much greener and plant-rich environment._

 _But with it came heavier rains and more bushfires. We had no choice but to ramp up firefighting recruitment. And we had plenty of manpower to draw from._

 _The sheer number of people who enlisted of their own free will was what made all the difference to those who were already strained by the work. It also allowed us to have more experienced personnel for the military._

 _It also came with a harsh price: we now had more trees with which to build houses, but in the aftermath of the war, there wasn't much else to use. So, we had to make a choice: use the trees to build houses, or save them so they could reduce CO2 in the atmosphere._

 _It was a hard choice. But in the end, we decided to spare the trees, and well, we had to make do with other materials. What did help was a breakthrough by a German and Chinese scientist team at the University of Technology Sydney: a new nanotechnology that revolutionized the development of materials for homes and buildings. These "nanobuilders" as we call them are able to produce synthetic materials that act just like natural wood and tree fibers, along with 3D printing. This meant we could literally print new wood from a standard printer, without cutting down trees._

 _That was just the first step though._

 _A newer technological breakthrough came around the year 2059, forty years after the Apocalypse broke out. This technology had been in the works for years, but was lost once the war came. The technology's creators fled to our shores to prevent it from being lost, but sadly not all of them made it in one piece. Those that did died from radiation shortly after reaching shore. But they used what little time they had left to educate us on how to create the ultimate form of energy on the planet, allowing us to craft and harness the very power of the stars themselves: nuclear fusion reactors._

 _The first reactor came online around 2062, just three years after the prototype was first tested._

 _It turned out the prototype reactor produced more power than it took in, so after a few months of testing, it was declared a success, and well, more reactors were built over the course of the years, becoming more powerful and more efficient. These reactors meant we no longer needed dirty coal or oil to power our cities, and what fission reactors we still had operational were shut down._

 _Yet we still needed to go greener._

 _See, in the aftermath of the Apocalypse, most nations have reverted back to old coal and oil facilities for power. And we know of the recent change in climate brought about by such things. So, our government elected to go green after the borders were closed, not just for our future, but for the future of the world as well._

 _What happened next was nothing short of astonishing._

 _A Russian and Japanese team working with an American engineer was able to develop a fully working algae farm, which meant our cars no longer needed oil and gasoline to run. Electric cars also became rather popular after a new battery was invented. This new battery was able to hold a charge much longer than usual, much like the old Tesla batteries; we even set up our own hyper-factory to mass produce them._

 _Solar panels became more widespread in the bush country of the Outback, and wind farms became a favorable choice for cities on the coasts. Also due to the need for more development within the center of the nation, geothermal wells were drilled and tapped, allowing the population to grow up around these locations. (The ecosystem has also greened up there, leading to more lush plant life and more fertile soil.) Wave energy really took off further near the coastal cities, including a few of the islands within our range. (The system used is actually very efficient. Much like a car's pistons in its engine, the buoys that make up part of the pump system are tethered to the pumps themselves. The waves move these up and down, allowing high pressure water to be generated. It is then pumped on shore to drive a turbine and to create desalinated water all at once. It was initially called CETO, after the Greek goddess of waves. Some of us wished to alter the name, but the government said no, so they kept it.)_

 _Biofuel and biomass also became key sources of fuel and power, but due to the huge growth in algae fuel, it has become something of a lesser used fuel. The algae farms are now a number one producer of fuel in the country, and perhaps the entire confederation._

 _But that was only one part of the issue._

 _Our biggest issue took place only three years after we became independent of oil and coal._

 _See, during the war, many nations lost satellite capabilities around the globe. Internet became a relic of the past, only recently brought back via old landlines and cell towers. The "new" Internet is not as fast as the original, and most information has been lost since the end of the war. Instead, what we did was we went one step beyond it and developed a quantum supercomputer that can store all the data we have. The computer took five years to construct and build. But once it came online, it proved to be a godsend. Our country now had a huge amount of space to store all the information we retained._

 _But as a backup, two more were built and a new network was established for the confederation members. Dubbed the Internet V2, it is designed to eventually take place of the current version. And with these powerful supercomputers, of which more are in development to be exported to other countries, it will be hard to wipe out this Internet._

 _But what does this have to do with the issue of satellite capabilities?_

 _Plenty._

 _Some of those satellites lost were spy satellites. And we had five in orbit by the time the year 2065 came around. The year everything changed for us, and for the world._

 _The day the bloody Hunger Games were created._

 _Panem, or the Pan-American National Economic Movement, is the one who initiated those Games. What? You thought_ I _was from that blasted nation? Hell no! I'm from Australia. Or rather the Australian Confederation, to be exact._

 _The Australian Confederation consists of Australia, my home nation, Japan, Taiwan, and the Philippines. We also have under our banner the former nation of New Zealand and South Korean exiles. The reason why we were formed is simple: to thwart any attempts by Chinese warlords and Korean pirates to invade our lands. The major threat though to us is the damn bloody Unified Democratic People's Republic of Korea. Well, maybe to only the Eastern Hemisphere. They don't have much in the way of naval assets, but their new ICBM program is what makes them worrisome._

 _It's Panem that is the biggest threat globally. Or rather, it's all of the nations who have been struggling to rebuild._

 _Our world is basically dying._

 _Loss of vegetation, resources, and the soot filling the air blocking out the sun, along with polluted water, means we only have a limited amount of time left. Although the vegetation is starting to grow back, in some places it won't return for years, or not at all due to the climate change. We are running out of time, and the only way to prevent this is a return to 21_ _st_ _century ideals, in the early twenty-first century, after the events of 9/11 when we all united._

 _That is the only way we can save our world._

 _The Apocalypse did the unthinkable though, and removed any sense of hope for a better future in those who wish to take only for their own gain. The one who started this was the former President of what was once the United States of America, a man whose name has become synonymous with the Day of the Apocalypse. We do not mention it though._

 _Now this may sound even stranger, but to put it simply, when the war broke out, the government at the time received a last contact from Great Britain, one of our former allies. They said simply that we were on our own, and that all ties had been cut off. The Governor-General back then wasn't sure what they meant. He tried to reach out, but the lines were down._

 _It was only two days later that they got an even stranger message. One we still can't figure out. The leading broadcasting company, the Australian Broadcasting Corporation, was the one to receive the message, and it went out across the nation. It said simply "America's legacy is in your hands now." The voice was feminine, but it had a sort of air about it the leading techheads there couldn't figure out. No one could._

 _And it only got even weirder._

 _Fifty years after the Apocalypse ended, and about thirty years after the borders were closed, Chinese warlords got ahold of some nuclear missiles and launched one right at us. And yet…_

 _Three days before the missile was launched, a new message came through over a radio signal._

 _Thing is, no one could figure out where the bloody thing came from. It was as if it just came out of nowhere. The message contained just five words: Target: Canberra confirmed. Evacuation imminent. People were baffled, as it came over_ all _radio signals, both civilian and military alike. The people weren't sure why, but along with it came a sense of urgency. They packed up and fled, taking with them everything they could. But one man refused. Xavier D. T., descendent of the Destroyer, lingered until his wife urged him to flee. He did, but his car ran out of gas just miles from the city center._

 _Then the bomb came._

 _The missile struck, taking out the entire city and wiping out all life in its borders._

 _Sydney and Melbourne were spared the damage._

 _The government set up in both cities, feeling it was better to have two backup spaces rather than one central government. It nearly backfired, but after some deliberation, a temporary location was chosen to set up shop until the governmental center could be rebuilt. The radiation died down after twenty years, but the people were fearful of another attack. So the Governor-General, now called the President, elected to appease everyone at once._

 _Progressives wanted a new city built, environmentalists wanted to keep the city in ruins, and he military wanted to deflect a radioactive missile thrown our way. The Meldney Complex was the solution. Devised and built like a very large satellite dish on six legs, the former territory took a direct hit from a missile a second time, but this time the blast wave and subsequent radiation were deflected skyward and out over a wider range, meaning less radiation was absorbed by the people._

 _To this day, no one knows who or what sent that message._

 _We never found Xavier's body until sometime after the complex was finished. His car was rusting, and the body we ID'd through the teeth. It was a surprise to see, but at the same time, it gave hope to us._

 _And then I was born._

 _My life up to this point has been a mess of fighting, politics, and dealing with warlords from across the pond, as the old Brits would say, in North Korea. But I can say it's been well worth it, as we've begun to restore old ideals long since forgotten._

 _My name is Joseph "Seph" Matthews, and this is the Future's Rebirth._


	2. Awake and Alive

Darkness.

All he can see is darkness.

He struggles to pierce the gloom with his enhanced vision, but it isn't enough. Even his optic is useless in this place.

His hands clench into fists as he tries to move, only to find that he can't. All he knows is that he is trapped in this place.

Then, he hears it.

A small scream, like a child's. His eye widens and he finally finds the strength to force his body to move. He spins around, his right arm's tonfa flipping out and the beam blade igniting. He charges through the darkness, seeing what appears to be red eyes coming at him from all sides.

He swings his sword, cutting through the eyes as they try to nip and gnaw at his naked body. He has no idea why he is without clothing, but at least he isn't without a weapon.

The screaming gets louder as he cuts through more and more of the red demon eyes. He lashes out in a left uppercut, sending one set of eyes flying and two more crashing into a group of them. The man grits his teeth and charges at the next set of eyes.

Only to feel his feet catch on something and he lands on his face, sprawling on vegetation.

Confusion floods his features as he gets to his feet, noticing at once he is in a forest of some kind, clad in his uniform. He looks down in disbelief. Wasn't he naked a second ago? The thoughts are driven from his mind as he hears the scream again. This time it sounds much closer. He turns, and his eye widens in shock at the young girl as she bolts, passing right through him as if he isn't even there. Or rather, she does notice him, but at the last moment as another youth, not much older than she is, fires an arrow right for her throat.

The man's eye is wide and his optic sensor flashes in shock as the arrow penetrates her throat. Another boy leaps out, swinging a huge broadsword that cuts right through her flesh and bone like a knife through butter. And he can see the way she writhes in pain, her right arm going into spasms as it falls off, muscle, sinew, and tendons coming out, her blood gushing forth-

 _Only for his eye to snap open and he jerks awake, panting heavily as he raises a hand to his head and runs it through his hair._

 _"Damn... Another bloody nightmare..." he mutters under his breath._

 _The sun is just starting to peek over the horizon as he gets out of bed. He walks to the window and looks outside, his optic flashing in the morning light. "Well... time to begin."_

* * *

 **(** _The scene shows a small flame before darkness snuffs it out. But a small ember burns..._ **)**

 **Hikari ga tsudzuku... ! (** _The ember is blown away, becoming one of many as the sun begins to rise beyond a war-torn town._ **)**

 **Hikari ga tsudzuku... ! (** _The light from the sun overcomes the camera and it fills the screen before fading to show the skyline of Sydney and the name of the series._ **)**

 **Yami ga sono tochi o shuchō suru kamo shirenai (** _The image flares before it shows two people trapped in a ruined structure in what was once Shanghai. They are both shaking and are wounded from shrapnel._ **)**

 **Shikashi, kibō wa enjo no te o kasu (** _A pair of explosions rocks the area and they huddle and whimper before someone lifts the debris off the two of them. It is a group of Australian soldiers._ **)**

 **Sekai ga kawaru to (** _The soldiers help the two children to their feet before one of them grabs a grenade and throws it at some bandits coming to pillage. The grenade explodes before the debris falls away, exposing the ruins of Europe, Marshal Sergei Kudryavtsev's image over the continent, King Lawrence III opposing him over Europe as well._ **)**

 **Furui risō wa moe tsudzukeru (** _The scene is engulfed in a bright flash as it shows Korean soldiers storming through city ruins in what was once Seoul, South Korea, carrying Panemian weaponry as rebels fight back desperately. Above them is Ahn Sun Pok, her face twisted into a sneer as she holds her hands upwards, as if mocking the world's helplessness. Behind her is the Panemian Vice President while President Kane is off to the side, gazing at the sky._ **)**

 **Kieru hikarinonakade (** _With a wave of her hand, she commands the forces to open fire on rebel positions. Missiles rain down, the black smoke engulfing the area before it is blown aside by a hoverplane._ **)**

 **Kurayami ga hirogaru ni tsurete (** _The hoverplane is painted in Arabian colors, and on top of the imposing palace is Muthasim V, the sultan. He looks back as it fades to a map, showing the Egyptian Union breaking away from them. But then it shows the country turning a bluish green as it fades to show a new figure in the shadows._ **)**

 **Watashitachi no kibō wa tsudzukudeshou (** _The figure holds up its right arm before it lunges out, coming into the light to reveal Seph Matthews as he swings his beam saber mounted onto his right arm, cutting through a bandit before spinning and cleaving another's gun in two, following up with a left hook leaving him dazed. He turns, his left optics lens flaring red as it engulfs the screen._ **)**

 **Watashitachi ga mada ikite iru kagiri (** _The light fades to show three other members, all of them gathered around in front of the Meldney Complex. To the left is Japanese Empress Yuki Minaguma. To the right is Filipino President Gueo Largina. And in the middle is Taiwanese President Chae Yang Un. Behind them the flag of the Australian Confederation flutters before the camera zooms in on it, only for it to fall away._ **)**

 **Un, hikari ga tsudzuku! (** _The image of Sydney is revealed, above it Seph and his fellow leaders side by side with the sun behind them, the Australian Confederation flag above them all as the series name appears below them._ **)**

* * *

 **Chapter 1: Awake and Alive**

 **Location: Meldney Airspace**

 **Time: 1600 hours**

 **Date: Thursday, January 5th, 139 AF - After the Fall (2158 AD)**

The single grey helicopter flashes through the sky, the rotor blades cutting through the air as he shifts in the doorway. He can see the incoming sight of the complex, and he smirks beneath his flight helmet.

His gaze flicks over the large satellite dish-like dome, its six 'legs' acting as braces against any possible attacks from the air.

From an aerial perspective, it looks like an enlarged, oversized radar dish, with apparent scuff marks from hail damage and a large stain from when water filled up the dish. The legs are the supports, but at the same time this radar dish has so much more hidden beneath it; quite literally in this case. A small series of heliports is located around the outer perimeter, apparently to service the large 'array', when in reality it holds much more beneath its metal façade.

The helicopter banks around and descends until it is just 1000 feet above the ground, revealing the secrets it holds to the passengers.

The men and woman with him are surprised by the sheer number of structures hanging from the underside of the radar dish. At first glance, they assume it is mostly trees and growth snaking up and around the dish to reach the sky and sunlight. But as they draw closer, it soon becomes apparent that the light is glistening off many windows, and the 'trees' are in fact buildings built into the underside of the dish. The central building descends down until it reaches the very ground, a thin, narrow elevator shaft being the only thing entering the ruins beneath. The main tower also acts as a support strut, braced with several strong steel beams anchored into the ground.

The 'radar dish' is in reality a highly advanced, heavily engineered structure designed to both blend in with the environment and at the same time deflect a nuclear missile attack; the 'water stains' are really scorch marks left over from a nuclear blast that was deflected skyward well over a hundred years ago. And the 'hail damage?' Impacts from the debris of the missile.

One of the men whispers a few swears in shock and awe at the marvel of engineering. "Bloody hell of God...!"

He smirks as he looks back at the passengers seated in the compartment of the helicopter. "Like it, mates? That there is our greatest engineering and defensive marvel: the Meldney Governmental Complex."

"Damn man... That is one amazing feat!" the woman mutters in awe. "Are the reports really accurate? That it was able to deflect an ICBM launched by Chinese warlords?"

Their host nods. "Sure was. Those damn chinks thought they had us that time. Truth be told, it was a shocker when it actually happened. No one was expecting it to actually work."

"What was the damage?" the second man asks.

"Long story short, mate? Not much. The bloody thing held up much better in real life than the computer sims said," their host remarks as he waves to it. "It's also powered by a nuclear fusion reactor, so we don't have to worry about power issues for a long time."

"I bet the Chinese were shocked when they learned of what happened," the woman states as she raises her smartphone to take a picture.

"Those blokes learned the hard way that they were just pissing into the wind," their host says, grinning. "They also learned to never piss us off."

As he says those last words, he reaches up and waves a thumbs up to the pilot. The woman nods and starts to ascend the helicopter. The craft begins to rise, circling around to the main indent in the so-called 'radar dish.' The man in the doorway waves his right hand towards the large stains. "As you can see, the only damage sustained was the blast mark you see before you." A smirk crosses what is visible of his face. "It also helped that we had the structure nearly completed by that time anyway."

"Do you have any idea as to who threw that nuke at you guys, President Matthews?" the female passenger asks as she turns to look at him.

Their host just shrugs. "All we know is that it was some bastard named Jingyi Shun Ma. We haven't been able to get a trace of Ma anywhere." He shifts before raising up the flight helmet's visor to expose his face. His right eye glimmers as he smirks. "But we know who Ma's children are."

The passengers all nod as the helicopter starts to descend towards the heliport closest to them, its lights flashing. The grey aircraft flares up in its angle of attack, the pilot adjusting and compensating for the wind coming in from the east. The man closest to President Matthews isn't too surprised to see his host's face, but his delegation is more than shocked, having not expected him to live up to his reputation as "President Terminator."

President Joseph "Seph" Matthews is known as that for a reason: his left eye is completely replaced with an advanced optical sensor that looks more mechanical than organic, covered with a lens of red glass. And his right arm is completely cybernetic, modeled after the RX-0 Unicorn Gundam from the old mecha anime series, _Gundam Unicorn,_ complete with a working beam saber. The man's face is framed neatly by short, messy brown hair and his right eye is green. A scar crosses his left cheek, a reminder of the wound he had received some thirty years ago.

Unlike most politicians, Seph elects to wear a full military uniform (along with his commendations), a holdover from his days in the Australian Defense Forces, and the right sleeve is missing, no doubt to accommodate his arm. It is also meant to intimidate his adversaries, or potential adversaries, into being wary around him. While he is a democratically elected leader, he is far from being the usual stereotype as portrayed by the Unified Democratic People's Republic of Korea. He is really a stern man when it comes to dealing with dictators, preferring to be ruthless and harsh, but open and considerate with allies, as long as they share the same goals and ideals. He is also reputed to be very cunning, a trait that comes from experience on the battlefield.

It is a stark contrast to the way some other national leaders acts.

Egyptian Union President Aali Wasi El-Ghazzawy is not too surprised at how harsh he is, but to see it for himself is something new. The last time the Korean delegation had been here, there had been nearly a shootout between the Korean guards and Australian soldiers assigned to guard Matthews, only to be broken up by the man himself. He doesn't even want to know what was said, because he feels he will regret it later.

Matthews takes the time to glance back at the delegation in the helicopter, his optic locking onto each of them.

El-Ghazzawy is a man in his late forties, with a thick thatch of black hair and nice Arabic features. His eyes are a startling blue color, no doubt from his mother or father's side of the family through immigration back during the early days after the Apocalypse. He wears the usual suit for politicians, but he also has a sidearm on his left side in a holster. No doubt for protection against radicals, he muses. _Not much different from me,_ he thinks as he eyes his beam saber briefly.

Economics Minister Yasmine Ahmad isn't that much older, with a cascading wave of black hair and brown eyes that are framed in a face with high cheekbones. Her outfit is a nice tank top and dress skirt with high-heeled shoes. Her body is lithe and very fit, a mark from working out for seven years. She looks back at him, keeping a wary gaze on him.

The third man, and the last of the passengers, is Nasib Hossam Zaman, the Defense Minister of the Egyptian Union. He is much thinner, and slightly older, than the President of the Union, and his hair is starting to grey. His eyes are still keen and sharp, as is his mind. He wears a military uniform, and he has all the medals earned throughout his career on his chest. It isn't much of a surprise, really. But what really makes people back off is the fact that Zaman wields a huge sword for his choice of weapon. The sword is currently sheathed at his waist as a ceremonial gesture.

Seph sighs and shakes his head a bit before returning to the task at hand.

Minister Ahmad shoots a glance at Seph out of the corner of her eye. "You say this place is run by a nuclear fusion reactor?" she asks.

He nods. "That's right, mate. No need for coal or oil. Hell, the whole confederation doesn't use those dirty fuels anymore." A smirk crosses his face. "I take it you're interested?"

"The Caliphate of Arabia has refused to sell us oil ever since we chose to stray from their allegiance," Ahmad says seriously. "We have been searching for new sources of energy, and as you may know, Panem is not too willing to sell us any of its coal."

"Well, we'd be more than happy to sell you some of our solar panels," Seph replies. "But, as is always, it comes with a set of conditions, the most important being you respect human rights." His face takes on a serious look, and his optic flares bright red in response to his feelings. "And you cannot have had any contact with Panem."

"You hate them, then?" Zaman asks, his keen mind catching on.

"Mate, you have no idea how right you are..." the Australian hisses. "Especially given their lack of respect for human rights regarding children. You hear of their bloody 'Games'?" He quotes the word with his free hand.

"Who could not?" Ahmad growls, her eyes narrowed. "The mere fact it's even taken place is very disturbing, even for us!"

Seph nods. "Those very bloody Games are the reason why we have such hatred for Panem. And not just that. But the Ultranationalists in power there believe that the people should serve the government like slaves. And _that_ is just as bad, if not worse, than the bloody disregard for human rights of children." His eye hardens into an emerald as he pauses. "Because frankly, since the writing of the Magna Carta almost a millennium ago, the _governments_ have been the servants of the _people_. And in the old United States of America, people could sue the government and _win_."

He glances back at the Meldney Complex. "Not such the case with Panem. They have a warped view of how things are done there. Democracy? What democracy exists there? It's a fascist state. And as such, with its barbaric tradition of killing innocents for what the Rebellion did... it is not even a state, but a barbaric tribe that happens to take the form of a state."

Ahmad's eyes widen a bit at the harsh tone in the Australian's voice. "Such a country is not even worthy of the word," Seph growls. His right fist clenches even tighter, and she sees the metal handle dent under his strength. "So why even do business with them? That's the issue."

El-Ghazzawy nods. "I understand your position, but we do business because we need supplies for our armies. Especially since the Wastelands have started encroaching into our territory." He pauses. "And that brings us back to the matter at hand, does it not?"

Seph nods. "Yeah. It does, mate. And to be honest, I'm not sure about giving away our fusion reactor plans, seeing as how they are the ultimate in energy sources." He hesitates before he continues. "However, we are more than willing to sell you some of our algae derived oil."

That gets Ahmad. "You... You have fuel derived from _algae_?! That's... No one has been able to do that for years! Not since the end of the Great Cataclysm!"

"Well, we have it," Seph remarks with a chuckle. "So you won't need to worry about drilling for it. Best part is, it's ecofriendly and the source can easily be grown. The process is a whole other scenario, but no doubt you blokes can figure it out."

"We can try," Ahmad admits, looking a bit prideful. "But we don't have the resources to build such farms."

"Then we'll just sell it to you," the President remarks as he shifts. "But the matter is, you'll need to be willing to fight for what the world lost. To help us regain the old ideals of openness and tolerance and respect. Panem and the rest of the world is not so willing to... at least for the moment. But..." He hesitates, not wanting to reveal such vital intelligence. He finally decides to compromise. "But there have been... encouraging signs... that maybe things can change."

"It has to do with this Kane, right?" Zaman asks, his keen mind deducing the brief silence.

"One smart bloke you got here, El-Ghazzawy, mate," Seph notes.

"It is why I chose him for my defense minister," the Union leader says with pride in his chest. "I would not be where I am without him, nor my other ministers."

"Good. Keep them close, mate. Friends are important to have, as are allies. But do not hesitate to be harsh with them should the need arise," the Australian advises. "I know that all too well from experience."

"I take your advice to heart," the Egyptian says.

The helicopter circles back around, heading back towards Sydney. "I'll take you guys inside the Meldney Complex tomorrow so we can formally work out the trade agreement. But for now, I'm sure you could use a break?" Seph asks.

"It would be refreshing to get out of this heat," Ahmad remarks, rubbing her forehead to get rid of the sweat.

The Australian President nods. "All right."

Within a few seconds, the helicopter is en route back to Sydney.

* * *

The trip back is rather uneventful, and as soon as the helicopter touches down, the Secret Service is out to usher Seph away from the vehicle and into the sleek limousine constructed for governmental workers. Modeled after the old American "Beast" limo, it has much of the same safety features, with a few additional ones, such as off-roading capacity and its own oxygen supply. The vehicle is even designed to be able to roll over and not sustain much damage, due to the unique nanobuilt armor plating and shatterproof/bulletproof glass.

Seph is immensely relieved as the driver pulls away from the airport. The only other people in the limo are his vice-president Martha Preston and Chief of Staff Hunter Jenkins, along with his wife, Tina Matthews-Hendricks. These three are his closest friends and political advisors, in addition to fellow war heroes and veterans.

He sighs as he runs a hand down his features. "Damn... this is not my day..." he mutters. "Bet you guys had your own problems, right?"

Tina nods. "Not as bad as some others," she says, looking at Martha.

"Let me guess. A certain Vice-President of Panem?" Seph asks, rolling his eye.

"Try more like Panem's naval assets intruding on our territory," Martha remarks, folding her arms. "We've been trying to get them to back off for days now, but so far no luck."

"I just wish that we could smack some sense into them!" Seph growls. "Not like it will make a difference. I mean..." He sighs as the limo begins to snake its way down the main street, passing all the buildings and into the suburbs where they are currently situated. Unlike most other leaders who live in great and majestic palaces, Seph chooses to live a simplistic life, preferring to live in either the Meldney Complex, or out in his Sydney home when he needs to get away from the hustle and bustle of government life.

Hunter places a hand on his friend's shoulder guard. "We all understand, mate. But the truth is, the whole world is in this state. And frankly, it's kind of disturbing."

He nods. "Yeah..."

"So, that aside, how much longer can we expect Panem to drill for that black sludge in our territory?" Tina asks Martha.

"About as long as fifty years. And that is not going so well, since we have our own naval assets keeping an eye on them. And as you know, we do not screw around with this kind of stuff," Martha says as she runs a hand through her long sandy-blonde hair. "They just wanted the oil, I know, but sometimes I can't help but wonder if it's also to try and intimidate us..."

"More like coerce us into forgoing what once made America so great," Seph grumbles. "But we... no, the whole Australian Confederation, will not yield those ideals. As you know, we've got all the people who hold onto them. Not just current generations, but those who came before us. Remember, our nation was transformed because of immigration and the civil rights movement."

"We'll get into that later," Tina tells her husband. "Right now we have more pressing matters."

"Like the Egyptian Union meeting," Hunter reminds his friends.

"Yeah. The blokes are interested in the oil. But we'll be selling them the green stuff. Not that black sludge from the ground," Seph says. He sighs again, pressing a hand to face and rubbing the bridge of his nose. "Dammit..."

"Not going to sell them the fusion reactors?" Martha asks.

"No. That's what we're refusing to sell for a reason. Given the circumstances... until we can get more people to our side, we'll be keeping it secret for now. Just tell the world we're not using oil or coal anymore." Seph seems to sag a bit, his frame weighed down with the intense responsibilities of his position. "At least we have someone we can count on..."

"If you mean the King of England, then that is something. But for now... we have to try and focus on the matter at hand," Hunter says. He reaches behind a small cooler space and pulls out a couple cans of beer. He hands the first to Seph, who takes it and with his right finger, pokes a hole in the top. He chugs down half before he sighs.

"True. So, anything new on the economic front?" he asks.

Martha shakes her head. "Nothing really, except that some of the Aborigines have been asking to see you. They're a bit worried about the new fusion reactor coming into operation near their lands."

"I'll get with them as soon as this meeting is over. It'll be good to forget about Panem for a while and focus on matters more close to home." Seph is in truth feeling relieved. At least here he is making significant progress compared to the rest of the world at large. As a last holdout, it is hard to make an impact on those who believes in survival of the fittest.

The limo continues on for another fifteen minutes before it comes to a stop in front of the ranch style house where Seph and Tina live. While in a modest neighborhood, it is at the same time highly protected thanks to a slew of Secret Service agents camped out in the area. The rest of the country thinks it odd, but at the same time, it actually offers a sense of normalcy to the people who live around the area, even if they have to avoid crossing the lines of the camouflaged Secret Service agents. It only also adds a sense of security to protect them as well.

The First Family of Australia gets out, and their two friends follow suit. Martha and Hunter go down the street to their home and the limo peels off to the right, heading for the limo rental place, which is actually a good cover for it; he also does rent it instead. Government workers in Sydney and Melbourne have such limos at rental places. It also helps that it doesn't have the insignia of the President on it to further blend in. The flags are also removed once in place in the parking lot.

Seph feels a lot better at his home as soon as he sets foot inside and closes the door.

A meowing catches his attention and he turns his gaze to the cat that slinks into view. A smile crosses his face as he kneels and gently scoops up his pet in his left arm. "Hey, Sophie," he whispers, scratching her with his right hand. She purrs in his arms, licking his metal fingertips and nuzzling them. He laughs a bit as he sets her down, walking over to the lights and flicking them on. The Bengal cat slinks after him as he heads for the living room. Tina on the other hand goes straight to the fridge and grabs out some leftovers.

"You want leftovers?" she calls.

"Sure. Better than fast food," Seph replies. He reaches up and undoes his uniform top, removing it to expose a white tank top, along with the metal that is literally fused with the flesh on his chest. He rotates his right shoulder, trying to work some kinks out before he tosses the top aside and flops down on the couch.

"I'll bring it over in a minute. Gotta feed the cat first." Tina proceeds to get to work as Seph flicks on the TV with a wave of his right hand.

The news flashes on, and he grunts as he sees it is a report on recent Panemian activities in their waters, and he flicks his finger, changing the channel. "Not in the mood for Panem right now," he mutters.

The screen flickers before landing on the History Channel, this time showing a documentary on the affairs of the Middle East. He snorts. "Better than Panem, anyway."

Tina joins him a few minutes later, Sophie purring as she follows her mistress to the living room. The silvery cat starts to eat once her food is set down, and Tina sits down beside her husband.

"Bastards have no idea..." he mutters.

"Forget it, Seph. We have more issues to deal with," Tina reminds him. "Such as getting the situation with the Aborigine Council worked out. And finishing up the meeting with the Egyptian Union representatives."

"I know, Tina. I just sometimes feel like we're the only alliance still holding true to what ideals were lost," Seph says seriously. "If only... If only the war hadn't occurred..."

"There's nothing we can do to alter the past, Seph. But what we _can_ do is sow the fields of hope for the future. And if anything, I'm sure America would want that, too." Tina places her hand on his. "So, just focus on that, okay?"

"But what if we fail?" Seph asks, looking at his right hand. "I mean... I've lost an eye, a limb, and for what? Ideals that no one else respects?"

"Ideals that the world can get back. It takes time, Seph. This mindset may be ingrained for now, but that's it. Only _for now_. If Kane is any indication... then maybe we can get the world to see reason once more." Tina seems adamant, and Seph can't help but smile back at her.

"Yeah. I guess you're right. And if we fail, then others will keep trying. That is the beauty of our nation. We've resisted falling back to the ways of the eighteenth century, so... we can do this," he mutters. "Maybe not in our lifetimes, but maybe in the future, we'll have a world we can be proud of."

She smiles and nods in agreement.

The two stay like that until the documentary is over.

* * *

" _For the last time, we are not retreating!_ " one of the Panemians shouts over the comm line, her eyes hard as ice.

"And for the last time, this is not your playground!" Hunter hisses as he grips the edges of the desk in his home office. "We are more than willing to use force to get you to leave!"

" _Not until we have secured what we desire,_ " the officer growls back.

"Those oil fields belong to us!" Hunter yells. "We may not use it for power, but we sure as hell use it for other things, you damn barbie!"

The Panemian recoils in shock. " _What did you just call me!?_ " she cries.

"A friggin' barbie! A barbarian!" Hunter sneers. "As in someone who murders children for the fun of it!"

The woman is about to snap, but Martha intervenes, stepping in front of her boyfriend. "I apologize for his behavior. But you know we have no respect for murdering children. We cannot allow this to stand, so we will retreat for now, but be warned. If you dare to threaten our facilities again, we will not hesitate to open fire."

The Panemian naval officer grunts, but backs down. " _At least some people there have sense,_ " she remarks, a prideful tone entering her voice.

"For now, yes," Martha clarifies. "So get out of here before we change our damn minds."

The comm shuts down and Martha turns to her friend. "Hunter, think this through. While you may be right, we're currently at the highest position of power here. We can't just say things willie-nillie like that. We have to be careful, lest a new world war break out. We have to be careful, and rational. Seph knows it, too. Why do you think he asked us to be in the Cabinet?"

"Because we can help him remain calm and focused. I know," Hunter says. He sighs. "I just hate dealing with these people..."

"Same here. But remember. We're doing this so one day a new leader may show the world the path to ideals long forgotten," Martha tells him. "So, just relax. It's okay now."

Hunter sighs and nods. "Right. You always were the more level headed of us in these matters."

Martha nods. "Yeah. So don't worry, mate. Let's let it go for now and just relax."

He smiles and kisses her before they leave the office together for some dinner.

* * *

That evening, Seph lays in bed with his wife, his gaze fixed on the ceiling. All he can really think about at this point is how the world has gone backwards. He wishes to understand it, but from the looks of things, it will be _years_ before anyone has any sense to rise up alongside the Confederation and say no to this lifestyle and way of thinking. He snorts to himself as he curls his right hand into a fist, turning over so his back is facing his wife. He mutters under his breath as he gets out of bed. "Dammit... Now I can't sleep..."

He walks over to the window and looks out at the skyline of Sydney. The lights glimmer and accent the stars above the city. A small smile tugs at his lips, tears streaking down his right cheek. It really is a sign of the world long since passed, he knows, when the skies were clear, the sun could shine through and when the world was greener. How he wishes he could see it back then... back before the Apocalypse and the current world order. Sure photographs still existed, but it just isn't the same.

The President raises a hand to his face and wipes the tears away, but it still does little to ease the aching in his heart. He can only feel the pressure of his position, and the fact that the whole world seems to be against them, save for Lawrence, who is their only ally now. He closes his eye and sighs. "If... If only we knew why... why this damn mindset had to take root...!" He grits his teeth and clenches his fists. "Why does humanity always have to go backwards after such an event?!"

No one answers, save the soft snoring of his wife.

"God... If you really exist... help us... I beg you..." Seph gets down onto his knees, clasping his hands in prayer as he bows his head.

"God... I'm asking you... no, I'm _begging_ you... help us in our mission... help us understand this new world... so we can undo what has been done. So we can return to ways long since forgotten... I only seek to help restore a once great nation to former glory... But in their current state of secularism, they have taken to using the name of their dictator, Snow, as a substitute for your Holy Presence... a mockery of who they used to be. They use it in place of any religious wording, and have come to see him as some deity, or close to it, I don't know!" He feels tears running down his cheek again as he continues his prayer. "I simply ask you to let those bastards who have been brainwashed by their "deity" know who the _real_ God is over there... I ask you, Holy Father... to assist us... in our mission... in our operations to ensure that the future goes through a rebirth... to a world we can all call home and be proud of... not this mockery of what we once were as an open, tolerant, and respectful planet. I ask you... to guide us... and to assist us in some way..." He pauses. "The 95th Hunger Games are coming up. Maybe... you can show your Presence then... I don't care how you do it... Just... do it... show those bloody fools who's really in charge over there..." He choked back a sob. "And maybe... show them a vision of what should've been... a world where people are tolerant, respectful, and open. That is all I ask. I know I'm asking you a lot, but God... Please... use your strength to assist us in our darkest hours... For everyone... Amen."

He feels a bit foolish for doing this, but it seems like divine intervention and assistance is what is needed now. In truth, he always has been a bit of a believer, but he never really shows it. Only in certain times does he pray, mostly for the survival of his troops and those suffering in the Wastelands of China. But now... he feels like he has no choice.

Seph finally lifts his gaze and opens his eye, looking at the horizon. The stars seem to pulsate with defiance in the face of the soot from the wars raging beyond the ocean's borders, and the moon begins to creep out from behind its cloud cover, shining brilliantly as if in defiance...

* * *

 **Location: Meldney Complex - President's Office**

 **Time: 1000 hours**

 **Date: Friday, 6 January, 139 AF (2158 AD)**

"And so, those are the conditions agreed upon." Seph holds out the paper and pen, his eye fixed onto the Egyptian delegation. "As long as you refrain from _any_ contact with Panem, we wills sell you green algae-derived oil, not that dirty black sludge that most are turning to in this day and age. And should the need arise, we will do everything in our power to assist you, as long as you do the same to us."

The four are currently seated in the office of the President, which is a far cry from a luxurious place. In fact, one could say it is downright Spartan, a holdover from Seph's days in the military. While it does resemble the old Oval Office in the former United States of America, that is only in furnishings and décor. The shape of the room is really a standard office room. Although it does have bulletproof/shatterproof glass windows, exposing the buildings on the underside of the dish, adding a relaxing atmosphere to the room when he isn't busy.

"A mutual beneficiary, then," Zaman says.

Seph nods as he places his hands on the desk. "Yes. Hope you mates are okay with that."

El-Ghazzawy nods, his eyes fixing on the President. "But I take it there is more to it that just that, right?"

Seph is silent as he finally leans forward on his elbows, tenting his hands in front of his mouth. "Right on that one, mate. Panem is not to be taken lightly. Our spy assets abroad, and we don't have many in there, to be honest, have informed us of Panem's military forces, being state of the art."

"And you can counter them, I hope?" the Egyptian asks.

A smirk crosses Seph's face. "What do you think, El-Ghazzawy?" He flexes his right fingers a few times. "We're not ones to be tangled with, either. Our tech may be out of date in some cases, but we do know the value of beam weaponry. And yet sometimes nothing can beat a good ol' slugthrower."

"I see. And yet Panem also possesses these... muttations?" The Arab cringes. "I cannot even fathom the medical and ethical complications that come with such weapons."

"Which is why we've researched poison gas." Seph's eye becomes hard as his optic lens flashes red. "Poison gas designed specifically to kill such abominations. One of our spies works in that department, so we know a lot about them."

El-Ghazzawy pales visibly as his two ministers look disgusted and shocked at the implications of what he is suggesting. "Biological warfare?!" Ahmad blurts, her eyes wide. "Are you _insane?!_ "

"Actually, _chemical_ warfare. Biological weapons such as those cannot exist. Muttations are a scientific monstrosity and nightmare." Seph is dead serious. "And well... we needed an efficient way of killing them off. So we went with poison gas. Specifically, gas that has been engineered to attack muttations, but leave humans unharmed save for getting severely sick."

"How in the name of Allah did you pull it off?" Zaman asks.

Seph refuses to answer, but he does frown. "All I can say, mate, is that it was a _hell_ of a nightmare to work out. We had to resort to capturing a few of them from Panemian handling." His face is calm, but inside he is feeling disgust at the mere fact that his own scientists and geneticists had to create the muttations from the ground up using techniques pilfered from the Panemians. At least it hasn't been in vain, because then they had a large amount to test the poison gas on. It has taken months, but in the end the gas was confirmed to have eliminated the last amount of muttations in storage, albeit making the workers sick for weeks.

His optic lens flashes a bit. "Truth be told, I'm not too keen on resorting to such actions. But if Panem ever _dares_ to cross the lines with us... well... if they try and invade us, it'll be damn impossible. And if they bring those beasts... they'll lose them for sure."

Zaman isn't too keen on asking, but he is curious. "H...How long does it... take to kill?" he asks hesitantly.

The Australian narrows his eye. "Less than two minutes. I can tell you that the gas works, but that's all. I can't say anything else as it's top secret."

Zaman purses his lips, but nods. "Okay."

Ahmad shifts uneasily as she speaks, her voice surprisingly quiet. "You're keeping it secret in case Panem tries something, right?"

Seph nods. "Yeah. And although the Confederation does have the capability to do so, I will _not_ engage Panem unless it comes down to it. We're better than that. As it should be."

El-Ghazzawy finally takes the chance to bring the meeting back on track. "So, should Panem try to assist their 'allies' in reclaiming our lands, you'll assist us then?"

The President's smirk is visible behind his hands as he nods. "Yes. We'll do everything in our power to assist and protect you. Rest assured on that."

"Thank Allah for that," he sighs, lowering his head in relief. "As it stands we have very few assets to defend ourselves with. And you..."

"It's also not just poison gas that makes people wary of us," Seph puts in.

That gets the attention of all three delegates. "Huh?"

"What are you getting at?" Zaman asks, his hand inching for his sword. El-Ghazzawy raises a hand to calm him down. The Defense Minister scowls, but removes his hand nonetheless, although his eyes are narrowed at their host.

"You, as an ally, fall under our nuclear protection as well." Seph's eye narrows a bit. "And by that, I mean we have nuclear-capable intercontinental ballistic missiles, much like our former 'ally' used to have. Except..." He pauses. "These are nuclear _hydrogen_ missiles."

That gets Zaman. "You bastards have the gall to even develop such technology?!" he demands, pulling his sword out halfway. "I should cut you in half for this!"

"Just calm down!" Ahmad screams at him. "This is no reason to get upset!"

"Such missiles destroyed our world almost a century and a half ago! We cannot let a tragedy like that be repeated!" Zaman insists, his eyes blazing.

Seph sighs. "I kind of anticipated this, but don't worry. We don't have very many, anyway. And those that we do have... well, let's just say they're mostly a deterrent. But we _will_ use them should the need arise. In fact..." A knowing gleam appears in his eye. "You could say we gave the blasted Koreans something to think about last time they tried to make a move on our allies."

Zaman is about to snap, but Seph raises his right hand. "Now, before you even blurt it out, we did _not_ use such a missile. We showed them the footage from a live test of one." He lowers his hand as he sits back in his seat. "That was enough to get them to remain behind their borders. And as far as we've seen, they're still there."

El-Ghazzawy frowns. "So if Panem tries to invade us, or if the Caliphate attempts to move on us, you will deter them?" he asks.

Seph grins, and his optic lens flashes red in response. "We'll show them the same test footage. And yes, that was all live, unedited, uncensored footage."

All three Egyptians shiver at the way he is gazing at them, and Seph's expression softens. "I just hope we don't have to use the bloody things."

Ahmad finally regains her composure and shifts in her seat. "So, then... I take it we can count on your continued support?"

Seph nods. "Yes. You can, mate. That is a promise."

El-Ghazzawy nods, although he is still pale in the face from the revelations. "Good. Because we need all the allies we can get."

The three stand up, and after signing the agreement, with cordial handshakes all around, they file out, finally leaving Seph alone in his office. He sighs and slumps back in the seat, turning around to face the windows.

With that finally out of the way, he can now finally take some time to relax and peruse the reports the agents had left on his desk upon arrival. He turns back to look at them and grabs the first one, scanning it over. A frown mars his features as he taps his finger against the desk. "Hmm... More attempts to drill..." He shifts before he grabs a map close by and looks it over, noting the green territories of the Confederation and her allies. (The nations that had been annexed abruptly by the President a hundred years ago prior were Indonesia, East Timor and Papua New Guinea, to act as a buffer zone against Chinese and Korean warlords. The island nation of New Zealand was also annexed, or rather they elected to join the nation for their own protection, and the Solomon Islands and Vanuatu had joined some time later.)

The green color is not to mark radioactivity, but to show an independence of dirty fossil fuels.

Panem in stark contrast is marked as a hostile nation, hence a blood red color. Britain and her territories are marked as a greenish blue, and the other nations are shown as enemies as well, only in deep purplish red colors.

The map also shows Panemian naval assets slinking around close to the borders. He taps his finger a few times before he sets the map down and ponders his next course of action. He presses a button on the speaker. "Jake? Get me the JCS. We need to discuss a plan to drive Panemian naval ships away from our borders... _without_ provoking them into open warfare."


	3. Carry the Light

The next few months are busy as Seph works with the military to try and come up with a plan short of war to drive off the Panemian naval forces and oil drilling ships. But given the fact that they are stubborn, it only draws tensions and people are not willing to risk war at the moment, so he is forced to concede and relent. At least until the next meeting of world leaders. And this time, he is going to be present. At least by hologram.

"Damn glad we got _one_ thing operational for international communications," he mutters as he approaches the center of the meeting chamber. Although he prefers to be with his forces at times like this, as he doesn't need a central holographic imager to project his image to the rooms within the palaces and military complexes of the other nations, at times like this he has no choice. Still, it is better than nothing. He flexes his right arm to make sure the servos are working properly before he flips the hilt of his beam saber forward and ignites the blue blade.

A smirk crosses his face as he waves it around before shutting it down and folding it back up. He takes the time to pause outside the room, right in front of a mirror hanging there. He glances at his reflection briefly; a tall man at six foot two stares back at him, grizzled features giving him an intimidating stature. His uniform is pressed and clean, the metal of his right arm gleaming silvery white in the light of the hallway. His optic lens glimmers before he turns and heads inside.

"Better hope those bastards listen to reason for once..." he mutters.

He has no idea how wrong he is.

* * *

 **(** _The scene shows a small flame before darkness snuffs it out. But a small ember burns..._ **)**

 **Hikari ga tsudzuku... ! (** _The ember is blown away, becoming one of many as the sun begins to rise beyond a war-torn town._ **)**

 **Hikari ga tsudzuku... ! (** _The light from the sun overcomes the camera and it fills the screen before fading to show the skyline of Sydney and the name of the series._ **)**

 **Yami ga sono tochi o shuchō suru kamo shirenai (** _The image flares before it shows two people trapped in a ruined structure in what was once Shanghai. They are both shaking and are wounded from shrapnel._ **)**

 **Shikashi, kibō wa enjo no te o kasu (** _A pair of explosions rocks the area and they huddle and whimper before someone lifts the debris off the two of them. It is a group of Australian soldiers._ **)**

 **Sekai ga kawaru to (** _The soldiers help the two children to their feet before one of them grabs a grenade and throws it at some bandits coming to pillage. The grenade explodes before the debris falls away, exposing the ruins of Europe, Marshal Sergei Kudryavtsev's image over the continent, King Lawrence III opposing him over Europe as well._ **)**

 **Furui risō wa moe tsudzukeru (** _The scene is engulfed in a bright flash as it shows Korean soldiers storming through city ruins in what was once Seoul, South Korea, carrying Panemian weaponry as rebels fight back desperately. Above them is Ahn Sun Pok, her face twisted into a sneer as she holds her hands upwards, as if mocking the world's helplessness. Behind her is the Panemian Vice President while President Kane is off to the side, gazing at the sky._ **)**

 **Kieru hikarinonakade (** _With a wave of her hand, she commands the forces to open fire on rebel positions. Missiles rain down, the black smoke engulfing the area before it is blown aside by a hoverplane._ **)**

 **Kurayami ga hirogaru ni tsurete (** _The hoverplane is painted in Arabian colors, and on top of the imposing palace is Muthasim V, the sultan. He looks back as it fades to a map, showing the Egyptian Union breaking away from them. But then it shows the country turning a bluish green as it fades to show a new figure in the shadows._ **)**

 **Watashitachi no kibō wa tsudzukudeshou (** _The figure holds up its right arm before it lunges out, coming into the light to reveal Seph Matthews as he swings his beam saber mounted onto his right arm, cutting through a bandit before spinning and cleaving another's gun in two, following up with a left hook leaving him dazed. He turns, his left optics lens flaring red as it engulfs the screen._ **)**

 **Watashitachi ga mada ikite iru kagiri (** _The light fades to show three other members, all of them gathered around in front of the Meldney Complex. To the left is Japanese Empress Yuki Minaguma. To the right is Filipino President Gueo Largina. And in the middle is Taiwanese President Chae Yang Un. Behind them the flag of the Australian Confederation flutters before the camera zooms in on it, only for it to fall away._ **)**

 **Un, hikari ga tsudzuku! (** _The image of Sydney is revealed, above it Seph and his fellow leaders side by side with the sun behind them, the Australian Confederation flag above them all as the series name appears below them._ **)**

* * *

 **Chapter 2: Carry the Light**

 **Location: Meldney Complex**

 **Time: 1200 hours**

 **Date: Thursday, 11 May, 139 AF (2158 AD)**

"Those damn blasted bastard fools!"

Seph's shout startles a few of the aides working in the main complex, and some of them even jolt. They turn just as the President storms out of the conference room, his optic lens flashing bright red in his anger. He suddenly whirls around, igniting the beam saber on his right arm and bringing it up in a slash that cuts clean through a portrait of Ahn Sun Pok, a gift she had sent to congratulate the new ruler of Australia before she learned who he really was. But Seph, seeing as he is not a standard politician, is not too happy with the gift and keeps it away from his office, preferring to have it someplace where no one can see it. And right now it is the perfect target for his fury.

He lets out a roar as he turns and hacks it a few more times, his chest heaving as he stares at the smoldering remains. Her face is still intact, and he grits his teeth as he draws back his saber and stabs it right in the painting's forehead, letting the blade smolder for a few seconds before pulling it out. He then turns and grabs a nearby fire extinguisher, spraying the foam on the painting to prevent a fire from starting.

He drops the extinguisher and stores his saber before he turns back to the closest aide. "Get that piece of crap out of here," he mutters. "I don't want to see that woman's likeness here ever again!"

A few of the aides are more than happy to pick up the pieces and discard them in the trash.

Seph feels a lot better after his fury has been released, but he still feels a bit angry. "That damn bitch has no idea...!" he mutters darkly. "And after everything we've done so far...!"

"Sir? I take it the meeting didn't go so well?" one of the Secret Service agents asks as he lifts up his glasses a bit to expose his reddish eyes. His mop of white hair falls around his features nicely.

"Hardly!" Seph spits. "Those fools over there are stupider than dung if they follow through with this whole new world order spiel and all that crap!" He folds his arms and walks off. "Mostly those other dictators."

The agent frowns. "I heard your yelling during the meeting." He pauses as his superior turns to face him. "I can only take it that Aristella woman cut you off?"

Seph nods, his right fist clenching. "She is as stupid as that other Cappie woman, Viondra DeWynter!" His optic flashes a pulsing red at the mere thought of her. "And she's the worst. I've seen her a few times at several other meetings, and she, along with Aristella, hates us, our ideals, everything we stand for. I've never hated anyone as much as that woman..." He stops walking, and the two men stand alone in the hall for a moment.

"Agent Seabrooke... What is your opinion of the Panemians?" he asks, startling the agent.

"Why are you asking me, sir?" he asks. "I'm just an agent assigned to protect you."

"True, but I want to know personally. I know everyone here hates them to some degree, but I want to know because you've never heard them speak before until now," Seph says as he looks back at the agent.

Agent Colton Seabrooke frowns, remembering what he has heard. His eyes narrow into slits as he snorts. "They're so full of themselves... along with their so-called allies. Believing that the world is theirs for the taking... that's just the kind of thinking that lead to history repeating itself after the First World War. And from what I heard, it looks like it could lead to a _fourth_ world war if this keeps up."

"And hearing about the Games?" Seph presses.

Now the agent seems to bristle. His shoulders hike up and his face contorts into a snarl. "Now that... That is just sick! _Why_ anyone would even permit such a barbaric tradition is beyond me!" He finally relaxes a bit. "I may not hate them like so many others, but I don't like their idea of the world being their oyster! After all, we all share this world, right? The world is not theirs to do with as they see fit. That kind of thinking led to many wars, and nearly destroyed civilization as we know it. So we have to get them to see the fact that no part of this world is theirs alone. This is everyone's world. And that we uphold. Isn't that why one of your predecessors annexed those territories close to us a hundred years ago?"

Seph stiffens at that. He finally lets the tension go and he sighs. "That was a mistake he made and it nearly cost us everything."

"But it also saved them, didn't it?" Seabrooke asks.

The President has no argument for that one. "True, but it was a backlash that nearly destroyed our country. Why do you think I'm so hesitant about helping Un with his ambitions?"

The agent nods, understanding his position. "That is a good point, sir."

Seph turns and continues down the hallway, Agent Seabrooke following him before he stops at the elevator leading up to the office. "Well, you may as well get going home. Your wife is having her baby soon, right?"

Seabrooke blanches before he remembers. "Oh, right! Thanks, sir!"

He turns and ran off. Seph just chuckles as he enters the elevator and presses the button leading to the main office where he works.

He stands in the middle alone, his arms crossed as he watches the floor numbers tick by. The music helps to let his mind wander. The light flashes and the ding resonates as the door slides open and he steps out into the hall, coming face to face with Hunter, whose face is dead serious.

"What's up?" Seph asks, getting a bad feeling.

"Long story short, mate. The Panemians are not budging. They even threatened us into backing off when we got too close," Hunter remarks. "And they're not bluffing, either. They have some ships down there to protect the facilities they're setting up. And they're even threatening to take over what few facilities we have in operation still."

Seph's eye hardens and he grits his teeth. He turns on his heel, heading away from the office and down the hall, his boots pounding on the carpeted flooring. Hunter jogs to keep pace with his best friend. "I need to know what ships we have in the vicinity of the bloody facilities!" he barks.

Hunter reaches into his pocket and pulls out a tablet, his eyes hard as he flicks through them before pressing a button on the side. The screen lights up as a hologram of the area in question appears. "This is the area currently in dispute. As you can see, they have five of their _Poseidon_ -class destroyers in the area, as well as an aircraft carrier. The spy sats can't get a good ID on it because of some kind of jamming, but we suspect it might be one of their newest. And as for subsurface assets, we can only guess. We think there may be submarines as well."

"And us? What assets to we have?" Seph asks again.

"We currently have the USS _Enterprise_ on standby, as well as the heavy-hitter. But she's still undergoing refueling," Hunter remarks, eyeing the ships on the roster. "And we have a bunch of our _Canberra_ -class destroyers on standby as well."

"All right. As soon as the refueling is complete, I want her out there," Seph says. "And I'm going out too. I want to talk with the captain in charge out there."

Hunter seems to pale at that. "Seph, you can't be serious!"

"I am, Hunter. I don't want them to encroach on our territory anymore. So, I'm going. And yes, get the damn blasted bloody battleship ready!" Seph repeats, his eye flashing as his optic lens flares in his anger. "Also, prepare the _Canberra, Worthington, Kennedy,_ and _Obama_ for deployment. We're gonna need them."

"Yes, sir!" Hunter salutes and runs off to contact the Chief of the Navy.

Seph turns and continues on his way to the staircase taking him up to the heliport. The single helicopter that is assigned to his use is one he rarely uses. Codenamed Marine One, a callsign taken from the old United States of America, it is the latest in a long line of military choppers built for the President's use. This is the MRH-190, a more powerful version of the old MRH-90 transport helicopter. It is not fueled by fossil fuels, but by a prototype hydrogen fuel cell in its place. The helicopter is also outfitted with a pair of door-mounted plasma guns and one on the nose, in addition to missile racks on the sides. Painted in the Australian naval colors, it is one that no one wants to fight because of greater speed and maneuverability in comparison to Panemian helicopters still in use.

He gets into the passenger's door and into the seat as the helicopter pilot nods at his passenger. "All set to go, sir?"

Seph nods as he dons the flight helmet and buckles up. "Ready as ever, mate!"

Within minutes the chopper is airborne and en route to the docks.

* * *

 **Location: Darwin Docks**

 **Time: 1350 hours**

Seph isn't too surprised to see the crews scurrying about to get ready to head out. What he _is_ surprised at is seeing the Chief of the Navy there waiting for him.

"All right, mate. What are you doing here?" Seph asks as he approaches the woman.

She turns and scoffs, blowing a strand of green hair out of her face. "What's it look like, sir? We're getting ready to head out. I'm just here to make sure that the loading goes smoothly. Given some incompetents..."

"Look. Don't blame the workers because of some mistakes," Seph tells her. "We have a bigger problem, and trust me, we need to stay focused."

Chief of the Navy Admiral Mayu Fujioka nods. "Yes, sir," she said. Then she frowns. "You're heading out, aren't you?" she asks.

Seph is silent as he turns and heads for the dock where the Australian Navy's heavy-hitter is located. That alone is enough confirmation for her. She snorts and turns back to her job.

The President finally pauses to examine the old battleship, although she can hardly be called 'old' anymore given the constant updating and rebuilding to get her to this point in time.

The USS _Missouri_ is not the same ship in any way she had been upon arrival in Australian waters over a hundred years ago. She now has a sleeker, more compact bridge structure with all the necessary electronics for modern warfare. The entire hull has been slimmed down and was rebuilt to allow for a more stealthy profile, along with the Tomahawk missile launchers. (While an older missile, the Tomahawk was a reliable one, so the Australian Navy refused to get rid of it.) The ship's engines have recently been completely gutted, only to be replaced with a fusion reactor and more powerful engines, giving her greater speed and agility, while the hull is strengthened with nanobuilt armor plating. The only things remaining that are entirely original are the three turrets containing her powerful sixteen inch guns and all the anti-aircraft guns.

He smiles a bit to himself as he takes in the sleek, angled shape of her hull and bridge, along with the turrets. She may be an old lady, but she is in no way dying just yet. He knows that for sure.

A flurry of movement closer to his location catches his eye and he turns his head, spotting the sleek shape of another ship that has made it to Australian shores. One that is currently a mobile command ship. The former flagship of the now defunct America, the SS _United States_. While seriously outdated, she is still a fast old girl, especially since her inhibitor plates have been removed from her boilers. It also helps that her boilers can burn algae-derived oil. Her paint job is stripped to just the bare metal, but on the side her name and her iconic red, white, and blue funnels still stand tall and proud. Her bridge is refit to a whole new standard, with up-to-date electronics and communications systems. She even has an advanced warning system to warn the crew of incoming missiles or torpedoes. On her rear jackstaff flies a very old, and very tattered, US flag, a solemn reminder of her former nation. It currently hangs limply, as it always has ever since she arrived here, as if mourning her home country.

Seph huffs and turns his gaze from the ship back to the battleship as he steps on board.

He is greeted with the sight of men and women running around, getting prepared for heading out to sea. The fueling is finally complete, and the engineers are starting up the engines. He feels them rumbling beneath his boots and he makes his way to the bridge.

The captain of the ship is overseeing the launch, his eyes fixed on the sea further out, in the direction of the enemy fleet.

Captain Kyung Han runs a hand through his greying black hair, narrowing his brown eyes as he turns to face the man as he steps into the room.

"Mr. President. I wasn't expecting this," he says.

Seph brushes it aside. "Don't bother asking, Captain. The reason you're being sent out is clear enough."

Captain Han nods. "I understand, sir. But may I ask why?"

The President's eye hardens. "Long story short, mate? I'm sick and tired of this intrusion. It's either we force them to back off or coerce them into leaving. And I'd prefer to resolve it with diplomacy, but in the light of recent events, I'm not so hesitant about using force now," he says. "Especially seeing as how they still think the world is their oyster!"

Han frowns, remembering the last time a Panemian official stopped by during a tour throughout the Korean zones of influence. The man had been nothing but a jackass, saying the Koreans deserved a lot more land than they did, and all kind of other nonsense. At least when Australia annexed all the surrounding countries all those years ago, they had a _reason_ to do so, not just to protect the people, but to deny Panem _and_ Korea those very coveted resources. And now that they are threatening to drill in those territories, that is akin to invasion in his eyes.

"I know what you mean, sir. Last time a Panemian official said that, it made me want to deck the man in the jaw," he says.

Seph can't help but chuckle. "Too bad you couldn't."

Han cracks a smile in response. Then he grows serious. "This is against protocol, you know."

"I know. But I need to speak to the Panemian captain in this area. If we can get them to leave, then well... it'll be one less hassle to deal with." His optic flashes as he eyes the ocean. "And we can focus on other matters, such as seeing what kinds of things the damn bastards have planned for those bloody Games of theirs."

"You mean using the spy satellites to pick up the arena and capturing the movement of the tributes in there?" Han asks.

Seph nods. "Yeah. And maybe get an idea of the plans for the arena as well. Remember twenty years ago? We're just lucky one of the Rebellion managed to evade capture and find a new position as an arena designer."

Han knows what he means by that. The man in question is a former Rebel, as are the rest of the spies they had. In order to avoid suspicion, most spies for the Confederation have dual citizenship, an advantage when dealing with the Capitol. They have two forms of ID, one located within Australia, and one marking them as Panemian citizens. The Panem documentation remains on file, but it is the second form of ID that is locked away within Australia. Most also choose to surrender their Capitol or District names for normal names instead, or adopt foreign names instead. It would've been a lot harder to keep track of them all if it isn't for the quantum supercomputers.

The President turns back to the window and looks out. "C'mon. We got drilling to interfere with."

* * *

 **Location: Drill Site 0023 - Australian Territorial Waters - PNS** ** _Archimedes_**

 **Time: 1445 hours**

 **Date: Thursday, 11 May, 95 ADD (2158 AD)**

The _Poseidon_ -class destroyer, the PNS _Archimedes_ , is one of the latest in the long line of destroyers for the Panemian Navy. She is well armed, possessing state of the art weapons and missiles, mostly plasma weapons. She also is the leading ship of this fleet. And she is one of many to be feared.

Most nations in this part of the world only have smaller freighters decked out with old antique weapons. Such as the self-proclaimed Chinese Empire of Yan Fu Shin. Or the Kingdom of the Dragon, ruled by Hua Jiang. Most of those nations never last long due to the upheaval in the mainland country formerly called China. In fact, it is considered an insult to have to deal with them. Most Panemian naval officers often laugh and make jokes about that. Some say they would even want to fight Britain and its territories instead. But seeing as how many ships capable of fighting are only in this area, newbie sailors and officers are sent here to get some real-life training in.

While the relatively clumsy and often outdated freighters, cruise liners, and cargo haulers are good training for the newbies, it is the more experienced sailors that know to never underestimate their adversaries.

Especially as recently there have been some ships lurking close to their facilities under construction for drilling here.

From a distance they look like normal naval ships for the Koreans. But as they draw closer, it becomes clear that they are _not_ Korean in design or appearance at all.

It looks as if a history book has come to life, the ships being exact copies of the old _Arleigh Burke_ -class destroyers once used by their predecessor nation. But while the design may have been exactly the same, it is on the interior that it is different. Possessing fuel cells and algae diesel fuel powered engines, these ships can last longer than the ships used by the Panemians, and are greener in every sense of the word. The ships also have the advantage of stealth like the old destroyer class did. But on their sensor towers, the Australian Confederation flag flies proudly.

The Panemian officers in charge are more than shocked at seeing these ships. Never once have they heard of a naval force from another nation in this region. And they are not mere salvaged and modified freighters or cargo ships. These are purpose built warships, armed to the teeth and ready to fight.

But to discover upon the meeting of these ships that there is a nation, or rather an alliance, called the Australian Confederation in the area is enough to warrant the ships to be on high alert. And as the drilling rigs are brought into the area, the destroyers, which they discover are called the _Canberra_ -class from interceptions of pirate and Chinese ship chatter, go onto high alert as well, and actually send a warning hail to them to cease their drilling, lest there be retaliatory force. The calls go unheeded, and the ships retreat further back.

The captain of the naval fleet assigned to the protection of the drilling rigs, Captain Glamoure Hansson, runs her hand through her shocking blonde hair and her blue eyes narrow as she studies the fleet patrolling just outside the territorial waters of the Confederation. There are only four, but they are not to be underestimated. "Ma'am, we just got video surveillance back from our drones," a voice says, catching her attention and bringing her back to the present at hand.

"What is it, Petty Officer?" she asks.

The man holds out the tablet. "See for yourself."

Glamoure frowns as she takes it and studies it.

Her frown grows even more pronounced as she stares at the scene of two larger ships coming in, along with four more of those destroyers. One of them looks to be well armed, with what appears to be three turrets with massive guns on them, and at once a chill races down her spine. She has heard of these ships. But to see one of them... And yet it doesn't look like what she has seen as a child.

The ship with the massive guns is not an ordinary ship. Designed for war, built to slug it out with the best ships of her day, and intended to drive fear into her adversaries, this is a ship that was meant for one thing only: battle. And it lives up to its name.

This is an honest-to-Snow's rose battleship. Much like theirs, but more modern.

Beside it is an aircraft carrier that looks as if it had also sailed out of a history book, armed with planes that are not of a type she recognizes. The deck is littered with them as the crews scramble around to arm them for combat. A hiss escapes her as she grits her teeth. "So... they've got a battleship!" she hisses. "Damn them! How could we not have seen this one coming?!"

The petty officer shrugs. "I have no answer, ma'am," he says. "I just know what I see."

Glamoure sighs as she hands it back to him abruptly. "Tell all our ships to stand by for firing orders. We will not let them interfere with our operations here!"

"Yes, ma'am!" the officer replies with a crisp salute.

The orders go out and the ships prepare for an inevitable confrontation. The destroyers arm their guns and the aircraft carrier prepares to launch its hoverplanes. The six ships hover around the drilling facilities, and beneath the waves lurk a few submarines. No one really knows much about them, so it serves as a useful propo tool to their adversaries. But they don't expect there to be several of the Confederation's own submarines lurking underneath the waves.

Of course, it is not the submarines the Panemians have to be worried about.

It is the battleship.

The fleet slowly draws closer and the large ship begins to swing around, coming until it is crossing with the Panemian Navy ships. The guns of the destroyers swing around to lock onto the six destroyers and single carrier. The stage seems set for war.

Glamoure frowns. They sure seem confident if they are exposing the battleship like that. But then she watches as the three turrets slowly swing around, and at once she realizes what this means.

She has heard stories, historical accounts of such a maneuver, where the guns of a ship swing around to bring their full power to bear on the enemy fleet. The olden ships from the ancient days were known to pull such a move in combat, delivering the full power of their arsenals upon their foes. This kind of move exposes the full broad side of the ship's hull, but at the same time allows for the guns on that side to fire. Of course though, with turrets on this kind of ship, it means that the guns could fire in any direction where an enemy ship is located.

And that is trouble.

The broadside is the most dangerous move a battleship could pull; especially if they possess massive guns like those.

Her eyes are wide as she finds herself staring at those massive barrels. She can only guess as to the size of them, but she figures them to be around maybe sixteen, seventeen inches in size. And that fact sends shivers down Glamoure's spine. She can only fear the worst at this point.

* * *

Seph on the other hand, is far from pleased. His optic is locked onto the bridge of the _Archimedes_ , and he can see the Panemian woman's fear coloring her goddess-like features. Some small part of him takes pride in it; he wants to see them squirm, yes, but not over something as trivial as oil rights. He brushes it aside though and turns to look at the captain. "You guys ready, mate?" he asks.

"Yes, sir." Han nods, but he isn't too pleased about this. "You do know that if we actually fire on them, it would be paramount to war, sir."

Seph nods. He folds his arms as he stands in front of the main console. "I do. But rest assured. This is not a direct hit. It's only to give them something to think about."

His decision to actually bring out the old battleship is a sound one. No one has any ships left that could even _match_ the sheer power of the _Missouri_ 's sixteen inch guns. And with nine of them to boot, it is a ship that can deliver massive firepower and damage at once. History has shown the value of such ships, not just for bombardment and battle, but also for an intimidation factor. So the President has ordered three more battleships to be built, named after the old _Iowa_ -class from WWII. The Australian Navy even has a _fifth_ battleship currently under construction, which is saying something as four is considered overkill by their allies. But considering the circumstances, it is better to have multiple battleships for insurance than only one.

He forces the thoughts from his mind as he watches the Panemian ships hold station in front of the drilling rigs.

His optic glints as he zooms in a bit more, and his lips curl upward in a smirk. She is starting to shake, and he can see the beads of sweat forming on her flawless forehead.

"Sir, we're ready to establish contact," the radioman says looking back at Seph.

The President nods as he unfolds his arms. He grasps the mike as it is handed to him.

"Attention Panemian naval fleet! This is the battleship USS _Missouri!_ You are hereby ordered to cease any and all oil drilling operations within our territory! This is your only warning!" he barks.

* * *

" _Attention Panemian naval fleet! This is the battleship USS_ Missouri _! You are hereby ordered to cease any and all oil drilling operations within our territory! This is your only warning!_ "

Glamoure is stunned by the sudden announcement over the radio. How is it that they are so bold and brazen?! And that ship... Why does that name sound so familiar? She brushes it aside though and gets on the horn.

"This is the Panemian Naval Ship _Archimedes_! You are speaking to Captain Glamoure Hansson! Who dares to address me in such a manner?!" she demands, her eyes hardening into ice crystals.

" _Heh. Just as stiff and proper as always!_ " the voice responds, sounding gruff and harsh. " _You are speaking to President Joseph Matthews of the Australian Confederation! And I will speak to you how I see fit, you stupid woman!_ "

Her eyes widen at the name, and she grits her teeth as she grabs a pair of binoculars and looks in the direction of the battleship's bridge. She can see the man in question, his right arm a dead giveaway, as is his left optic. He holds the mike close to his face, and his green eye is hard like an emerald. He is dead serious from what she can see.

"For your information, the whole world is open for grabs! And we will have these oil reserves, no matter what you say, Australian!" she growls.

" _Not gonna happen!_ " President Matthews shouts back. " _This territory is off limits to any bloody Panemian naval and oil ships! If you do not comply, we will be forced to take rather forceful measures to drive you back! I would not risk a war, so I will only give you this warning shot!_ "

Wait. Warning shot?!

Her eyes widen in fear as she watches the guns on the _Missouri_ swivel just a bit more and elevate up a few degrees. " _Do not think I'm bluffing, woman!_ " he hisses. "W _itness the main firepower of the USS_ Missouri _!_ "

He doesn't even hesitate as he barks out the single word. " _FIRE!_ "

All nine guns on the ship fire, sending a full salvo right for the Panemian naval fleet and drilling rigs. She watches in shock as the flare from the guns blossoms outward like a flower, turning reddish orange and red, thick black smoke mixing in with them. The shells exit their barrels at 762 meters per second, arcing skyward before falling with a whistling shriek. The image of the guns firing those shells will forever be embedded in her mind's eye as long as she lives.

The shells slam into the water in front of them, just meters away from the first ship's bow, throwing nine huge columns of water skyward. The sheer scale of those columns is enough to make some Panemian naval officers and sailors think twice, and she can see that even her crew is a bit terrified of such a ship. Or rather of the firepower it can bring to bear on them.

She grits her teeth and grips the mike. "You think that can frighten us?! We're not backing down!"

" _Oh yeah?_ " the President asks, a smirk crossing his features. " _I beg to differ. You see, that wasn't a suggestion. It was an order! So you_ will _fall back! And besides... we're not going to play nice anymore!_ "

"Your claims are insignificant against the might of our navy!" Glamoure hisses. "We have more ships that your pathetic little navies combined!"

" _Maybe for now... But who knows? After all, we've got something that may even the odds in our favor, bitch!_ " President Matthews sneers. " _And we have something you lack: respect for others! America never did any of this shit! They didn't conquer territories for resources and then take them willie-nillie! They left them alone, and most of all, America_ avoided civilian casualties at **ALL COSTS!** "

Glamoure snarls. "You are so stupid to believe that we're just going to respect those insects beneath us-"

She is cut off by a sudden roar, not of the man she was speaking to, but of the guns from the old battleship once more. One of the destroyers skitters backwards, the captain clearly fearful. The District 2 native hisses as the shells slam into the ocean, once more throwing up those massive columns of water. "You dare to attack us again?!"

" _I'm only keeping you bitches at bay!_ " Matthews growls. " _And America_ never _treated others as insects! You are ignorant to your past as a nation! And you_ will _experience the painful awakening you need!_ "

"What awakening, bastard?!" Glamoure snarls.

Matthews' lips curl into a sneer as she eyes him through the binoculars. " _The awakening to your lost respect for human rights, you stupid bitch!_ "

"Why do you keep calling me stupid?!" the captain screams at him. "I'll have you know I went through college and-"

" _Then what was the date of the American Revolution before the Fall?!_ " Matthews cuts in, startling her. Wait, what? What is that question about?! Is he trying to pull something?

" _I thought so. You don't even know your own history!_ " he mutters. " _That question was to test your knowledge of the Pre-Apocalypse. But apparently the leaders wish to keep you fools ignorant as to who you used to be, only caring more about themselves and their selfish greed! The very same greed that is going to wipe out the world again unless you damn fools bloody wake up to the truth!_ " His last words are enough to tick off Glamoure.

"We are not brainwashed, and you are fools for thinking you can triumph against Panem!" she cries. "Prepare to open fire on all forces there! We are sinking that damn ship and showing them how strong we really are!"

" _I don't think so!_ " Matthews hisses. " _Not as long as I'm here! Now, you_ will _do as I say and retreat from our territory, or else!_ "

"And how do you plan to do so?!" Glamoure asks, her eyes hard like ice.

The President merely smirks. " _Don't think that that aircraft carrier with us is just for show. One of these days, the Eagle your leaders chained and subdued will take flight once more, and reclaim the throne you so forcefully took from them!_ "

She is confused by that statement. What eagle is he referring to? And what does it have to do with the aircraft carrier with their fleet? She watches as the carrier prepares to launch two planes from its flight deck. "I don't get what you're blabbering about, but it will never happen, fool!" Glamoure spits.

" _Eagle flight, you're clear to launch,_ " President Matthews says, ignoring her. She is surprised. He actually has the gall to ignore her, the captain of the Grand Pacific Formation?! She hisses and grips the mike in her hand.

The two planes are airborne in minutes, circling around the formation before one of them suddenly darts upward, and much to her surprise, shock, and awe, begins to shift and _change..._

The front half of the plane begins to fold outwards, the armored cockpit shifting downwards to become a torso of sorts and what appears to be two intakes extend outward to form a pair of arms, hands flexing into existence. The rear of the craft unfolds to become a pair of legs with thrusters built into the feet, and a head emerges from the space where the cockpit has once been. A set of twin optical sensors flares a bright golden color, and the light from the sun shines down on the newly formed mecha. But it's not done yet.

The grey color scheme begins to transform too. The upper half of the mecha becomes dark blue with a dark grey chest, and the bottom half changes to a dark blue as well, but with dark grey feet bottoms. The helm on the other hand turns a dark grey with a white faceplate and golden optics. Yet it is the dark grey pentagon with two slivers of golden metal on either side that catches her eye. It resembles a V-shaped fin of sorts, and the faceplate has two ventilation slats on it. The mecha spreads its arms and legs in a menacing fashion.

" _Now, bitch... time for a little lesson you'll never forget!_ " Matthews hisses as the mecha draws what can only be described as a plasma sword of sorts. The optics flare and it speeds in...

And _that_ sight is something she will never forget.

* * *

 **Location: Old Glory oil rig**

 **Time: 1445 hours**

35 year old Ratnam Kumar is not expecting to hear or see the Panemian ships coming closer to the rig. She grits her teeth and barks out orders to the gunners assigned to the rig. "All gunners to their stations! We cannot allow them to get a hold of this rig!" she orders.

The men and women working on the rig scurry to their stations and defense positions, taking up sniper rifles and firearms, some getting into positions with plasma cannons and machine guns. Two rocket launchers are also attached to the side of the rig, salvaged from Chinese warships. As a result, the platform is a good defense post as well as an oil rig, due to the fact it's located close to one of the islands that has been annexed a hundred years ago by the Confederation.

Kumar's eyes are hard as she watches the Panemian destroyers come closer, along with an oiler ship. No doubt to siphon the oil they were drilling for once the rig was taken over. But she as hell is not going to let that happen. "Fire a few rounds their way, but do not hit the ship, least of all the oiler! The last thing we need is an environmental disaster!" she cries.

"Yes, ma'am!" the defenders shout.

The workers not assigned to the defense of the rig are ordered to take shelter within the central column in case the gun battle started heating up. It is a risky move, as a pipeline that carries the oil to the island is there as well, but if the rest of the platform gets destroyed, that is fine. As long as the central pillar is intact, that's all that matters.

The overseer grips the railing with one hand and raises the radio in her other hand to her lips. "Port launcher, fire a single shot! Aim two degrees to the left of the destroyer and fifty meters off their bow!"

" _Aye, ma'am! Two degrees left, fifty meters off bow, aye!_ " The launcher swings around, the man at the controls pressing the button. The rocket speeds out of the launcher, and arcs right for the destroyer. Or rather it would have, if not for the fact it's fifty meters off. The round slams into the water and detonates, sending a shockwave of water right for them. The wave smashes into the ship's bow, forcing it under slightly before it resurfaces. The damage is negligible, but it's the mere fact they have done such an act that prompts the destroyer to retreat while another aims its guns at the rig.

Kumar's eyes widen as she realizes what they are trying to do, and she snarls. "Not this time!" she hisses. She raises the radio again and spoke. "All right, guys! Let 'em fly!"

Sniper rifle rounds, Gatling gun rounds, plasma bolts, and grenades start to fly from the front and sides of the rig, a few even firing from the rear. Rockets fly from the rig in AA positions as the carrier starts to send hoverplanes their way; one of them is clearly outfitted as a transport to drop troops down onto the rig itself.

The sheer amount of firepower coming from the rig though forces the plane to back off, retreating as a few rockets shriek past its wings and engines. The destroyer is caught off guard by this move; they did _not_ expect the rig to be so heavily defended. The information they have obtained from their officers has said that the rigs are lightly armed, not heavily defended like this! The ships begin to fall back, driven off by the firepower from the oil rig.

Kumar feels a smile tug at her lips, but she knows it's only a temporary reprieve. Panem is not one to back down that easily. It's only a matter of time before they try to attack the rig again. She shoots a glance back at a rig about fifty kilometers away, noting that one of the destroyers is attempting to sneak up on it. She switches frequencies and dials in. "Hey, Jacques! You got a destroyer coming off your six!" she calls.

" _Thanks,_ mademoiselle!" Marin "Jacques" Blanchard remarks. He barks out an order in rapid French and as she raises her binoculars to get an idea of the situation on the other rig, dubbed Brotherhood for the familial atmosphere on board, intense plasma fire arcs down from the top of the rig as two RHIBs try to get close to launch grappling lines. They are forced to pull back and more plasma fire reaches up towards several hoverplanes.

"Damn bastards keep trying to take the rigs!" she hisses as she raises her radio again, this time speaking to her defense teams. "How much longer?" she asks.

" _Not much more, ma'am! The Panemians appear to be hesitating about boarding the rigs. I think the President's little black project has made its debut!_ "

Kumar purses her lips. She has heard the rumors of a black project, but to hear it confirmed is something new. "What's it look like, Don?" she asks the man at the radar station.

Donald Williams gets back a moment later. " _They're falling back for now, ma'am! But who knows when they'll strike again!_ "

The Indian Australian woman sighs wearily, watching through her binoculars at the ships now falling back, a profound sense of relief surging through her. Of course though, her gut tells her that they will be back. They always are.

* * *

To say Glamoure is pissed was an understatement.

She is absolutely _livid_.

The fact that the Australians have done this to her ship is absolutely unthinkable!

This new weapon they have introduced is clearly not something to be underestimated. For one thing, it's faster, more maneuverable, and can outclass many of their other weapons. She doubts even their strongest muttations can match this thing! The jet, if it can even be _called_ that, hovers close to the bridge, the pilot clearly feeling proud of themselves.

Whatever this thing is, it has managed to cleave off her ship's radar array, cut the barrels of their three five inch gun turrets right off, and then dared to actually blast off her ship's propellers, leaving it virtually helpless. And now they have the gall to hover there as if saying they'd won! How dare they!

She grits her teeth and hisses. "You are going to pay for this, Australian!" she growls.

" _Like I said, bitch. We're not playing around anymore. You try to take our resources, you pay. Now get out of my sight before I am forced to engage with more forceful measures,_ " the President hisses.

She growls, but considering the circumstances, she has no choice. "Fine! But do not think this will go unnoticed!"

" _I don't intend for that to be the case!_ " he grumbles. " _Now leave! And don't come back!_ "

* * *

 **Location: Matthews House - Sydney, Australia**

 **Time: 1700 hours**

That evening Seph lays slumped on the couch, his head lolling back and his arm draped over his forehead. "Dammit... That was close..." he mutters. " _Way too_ close..."

"I heard about what happened on the news," Tina remarks as she looks up from her laptop. "You took a big risk... You sure it was worth it?"

Seph shifts before he looks at his wife. "I'm not even sure... given recent events though, it seemed like a good idea at the time. Thankfully the rest of the machine's capabilities weren't revealed. But the beam sabers worked as intended. So I'm just glad that it wasn't fully revealed yet. The missiles also worked as intended."

"At least that's good news," Tina says looking back to her computer. She types in a few words before shifting it to show Seph the recent news reports.

"So, the blokes are pissed, huh?" he muses with a grin. Tina looks at him with an exasperated look.

"You think nearly having war declared on us is amusing?!" she blurts. She throws her hands up. "I can't even believe you!"

"Hey. It's not war if we don't sink a ship. And besides, it was all in self-defense. If they accuse us of attacking, I'll just explain that we resorted to self-defense, and that is that," Seph says, raising a hand to calm her down. "But right now, I need to take a break from this whole issue. Panem is just a pain in the ass!"

Tina frowns, but nods as she purses her lips. "Right..."

She goes back to her work and Seph sits up, finally flicking off the TV and turning to look out at the city's skyline. He really hopes that soon things will work out... Somehow.


	4. Against All Odds

The entire meeting room is in a state of frenzy with people running around to get things ready. It isn't very often the leaders of the alliance get together on such short notice, but considering the circumstances, an emergency meeting is needed at this point. The last thing they need was a crisis regarding the oil fields in Australian waters.

The doors slide open and at once one of the men looks up, his eyes widening as he spots the familiar form of the President making his way into the center of the room. Unlike most other alliances and leaders, the leadership of the Confederation does not use holograms to meet. They come together physically, often meeting within this very room inside the Meldney Complex, although sometimes they meet in Taipei, Manila, or Tokyo. Most everyone else thinks it to be strange that they refuse to use holograms, but Seph always argues - as do his fellow leaders - that it takes the personal, or human, aspect out of the meetings.

Seph personally feels grateful for the Empress calling a meeting. That means that they are on the same page with this issue, and it also ensures that the allies will be ready to support one another. He sits down at the table, eyeing the seats where they sit with a critical eye. He knows each of them personally, and it helps that the dossiers he received on them after taking office allow him to at least know more about them; at least in writing.

He checks the clock displayed on the wall and he smirks as he hears the doors open.

"So, you finally showed up..." he remarks teasingly.

"Well, of course, Matthews-san..." a female voice says seriously...

* * *

 **(** _The scene shows a small flame before darkness snuffs it out. But a small ember burns..._ **)**

 **Hikari ga tsudzuku... ! (** _The ember is blown away, becoming one of many as the sun begins to rise beyond a war-torn town._ **)**

 **Hikari ga tsudzuku... ! (** _The light from the sun overcomes the camera and it fills the screen before fading to show the skyline of Sydney and the name of the series._ **)**

 **Yami ga sono tochi o shuchō suru kamo shirenai (** _The image flares before it shows two people trapped in a ruined structure in what was once Shanghai. They are both shaking and are wounded from shrapnel._ **)**

 **Shikashi, kibō wa enjo no te o kasu (** _A pair of explosions rocks the area and they huddle and whimper before someone lifts the debris off the two of them. It is a group of Australian soldiers._ **)**

 **Sekai ga kawaru to (** _The soldiers help the two children to their feet before one of them grabs a grenade and throws it at some bandits coming to pillage. The grenade explodes before the debris falls away, exposing the ruins of Europe, Marshal Sergei Kudryavtsev's image over the continent, King Lawrence III opposing him over Europe as well._ **)**

 **Furui risō wa moe tsudzukeru (** _The scene is engulfed in a bright flash as it shows Korean soldiers storming through city ruins in what was once Seoul, South Korea, carrying Panemian weaponry as rebels fight back desperately. Above them is Ahn Sun Pok, her face twisted into a sneer as she holds her hands upwards, as if mocking the world's helplessness. Behind her is the Panemian Vice President while President Kane is off to the side, gazing at the sky._ **)**

 **Kieru hikarinonakade (** _With a wave of her hand, she commands the forces to open fire on rebel positions. Missiles rain down, the black smoke engulfing the area before it is blown aside by a hoverplane._ **)**

 **Kurayami ga hirogaru ni tsurete (** _The hoverplane is painted in Arabian colors, and on top of the imposing palace is Muthasim V, the sultan. He looks back as it fades to a map, showing the Egyptian Union breaking away from them. But then it shows the country turning a bluish green as it fades to show a new figure in the shadows._ **)**

 **Watashitachi no kibō wa tsudzukudeshou (** _The figure holds up its right arm before it lunges out, coming into the light to reveal Seph Matthews as he swings his beam saber mounted onto his right arm, cutting through a bandit before spinning and cleaving another's gun in two, following up with a left hook leaving him dazed. He turns, his left optics lens flaring red as it engulfs the screen._ **)**

 **Watashitachi ga mada ikite iru kagiri (** _The light fades to show three other members, all of them gathered around in front of the Meldney Complex. To the left is Japanese Empress Yuki Minaguma. To the right is Filipino President Gueo Largina. And in the middle is Taiwanese President Chae Yang Un. Behind them the flag of the Australian Confederation flutters before the camera zooms in on it, only for it to fall away._ **)**

 **Un, hikari ga tsudzuku! (** _The image of Sydney is revealed, above it Seph and his fellow leaders side by side with the sun behind them, the Australian Confederation flag above them all as the series name appears below them._ **)**

* * *

 **Chapter 3: Against All Odds**

 **Location: Meldney Complex - Australia**

 **Time: 1800 hours**

 **Date: Thursday, 11 May, 139 AF (2158 AD)**

The President shifts in his seat as he casts his gaze over the meeting room, taking in the leaders gathered before him.

Japan's head of state also happens to be their current Empress, Yuki Minaguma. She is in her late fifties, with a variety of scars crisscrossing her face. While she may seem intimidating, she is in reality a down-to-earth, rather homely, kind of woman. It's tempered though with a harsh outlook on reality in regards to politics and piracy attacks. Her most startling feature, aside from her bright orange hair and shocking blue eyes, is the mechanical prosthetic leg. Like Seph's, it's modeled after one of the mecha from the _Gundam_ franchise, which has started to make a comeback in the Confederation. In her case, it's the GAT-X105 Strike Gundam her leg is modeled after.

Off to her side sits Filipino President Gueo Largina. Unlike the other leaders here, he is in his seventies, and he looks like his age, if not older. His hands are clasped on his cane, and his grey eyes are locked onto his fellow leaders. But the most shocking thing is the metallic facemask which conceals his lower face. Seph's optic is able to penetrate the metal covering, and he grimaces to himself at the sight of the hideous burn beneath it. Gueo lost his lips and lower nose in a firebombing of his town when he was in his forties. Ever since then he has to wear a facemask to protect his sensitive flesh, as well as hide it from the people. He also happened to receive a shrapnel wound to his left leg, but since it's embedded so deeply, it's considered impossible to remove. So now he walks with a pronounced limp and has to use a cane as a result. But that does little to stop his patriotic spirit.

The final chair is taken up by the oldest, and perhaps the most ruthless, man in the group. Taiwanese President Chae Yang In is in his nineties, but he still has a full head of silvery grey hair, and keen blue eyes. He leans forward as he eyes his fellow leaders with a critical gaze. His face is slightly grizzled, taken up by a beard and mustache combo that adds a grandfatherly look to him. Yet despite being an avid supporter of Seph and his policies, there is no doubt the man has ambitions. And big ones. He is intent on conquering mainland China, giving back to the people of his island their native homeland. His skill on the front lines is also something to commend, Seph muses.

"So... I heard that the incursion was... effective?" Un asks in a calm manner.

Seph nods. "Yeah. It was, mate. But I will admit, I was hesitant about using them."

"This black ops project of yours... what is it?" the Empress asks. "You never did say."

"Well, may as well spill it," Seph mutters. "But first, remember the piloted mecha you guys built? For construction and emergency efforts?"

She nods. "Yes. But what does that have to do with this special weapon?" the Empress asks.

"Everything," Seph admits. "It was just a crazy idea some bloke had, but... it actually had some truth to it. Turns out as soon as I took office, I was informed of a project in the works code-named MECH. So..." He shifts in his seat. "I moved it to priority number one for our black projects. All others which were underway or being done, were scrapped and put into storage for future use."

Seph sighs as he runs a hand through his hair before he reaches down under the table and pulls out three manila-colored folders. He hands them out to his fellow leaders. "This was bound to come out sooner or later. So... may as well tell you before the conspiracies start."

The three leaders blink before they open the folders and scan over their contents.

The reactions they give are varied, ranging from wide eyes to utter disbelief crossing their faces as they look them over.

Within the folders are detailed blueprints and data on the ACSW-X109 Eagle Gundam.

Minaguma's eyes are wide as she lowers the folder, gaping in shock. She looks at Seph, rage taking place of the shock on her features. "You... You didn't even _tell us?!_ " she cries, slamming her hands on the table in anger. "We're _allies_ for God's sake! Things like this are supposed to be shared amongst us as equals!"

"Sorry, mate. But it was for your own protection as much as anyone else's," Seph admits. "To be honest, I wasn't sure, but..."

"So you developed this... Gundam... in an attempt to try and overcome our naval discrepancies, correct?" Un asks.

Seph nods. "Yeah. Since they have hundreds of ships and we do not, despite the shipbuilding boom, we needed an edge that could give us the ability to take them down. And since some of the populace were muttering about how Gundams could be an asset, the government actually took them seriously and the project got underway. But now..." He shifts as he looks down at his right hand and flexes it. "Something tells me we'll be needing Mobile Suits more than ever."

"Mobile Suits..." Minaguma frowns. "And you neglected to tell us you had such a project in the works."

"Because I wanted to keep it secret until the time was right," Seph insists. "And... to be sure you all would have one."

"Huh?" All three fellow leaders gape at him in mild shock.

Seph looks at each of them in turn. "There are three other Mobile Suit prototypes in the works. One is the Eagle Gundam. The data and specs are gifted to you to do with as you see fit. There is also data on the other three prototypes in the works as well, and as I said, you each will receive a prototype Mobile Suit to reverse engineer and do with as you see fit. However..." His optic flares red as his green eye turns into an emerald. "You must not - I repeat, _must not_ \- reveal it to Panem, let alone anyone else."

"To prevent them from getting their hands on it, yes?" Un asks.

Seph is silent as he nods.

Largina narrows his eyes. "How can we be sure that your little incursion and revelation won't spur Panem to develop their own mecha?" he asks.

"That... we can't confirm," Seph admits. "But we did not reveal the full capacity of the Eagle Gundam to them."

In is silent before he looks Seph in the eye and optic. "Yet a picture can reveal a thousand words," he says. "As an ancient proverb from my people goes. Such a revelation can lead to unexpected, and often, unintended consequences."

"I know, mate," Seph says seriously. "But as another proverb says, father's debt, son gives back. And that is what we're trying to do. Put right the mistakes our forefathers have made almost a hundred and fifty years back."

Un nods. "Yes, and such a mistake was also performed Before the Fall with my people's old country."

That gets Seph. His eye widens as he sees the glimmer in Un's eyes. "Wait... You mean...?" He leans forward. "You did it?"

The Taiwanese President smirks. "We have. Taiwan has a foothold."

The Australian smirks a bit as well. "Heh. Guess your ambition is finally started," he remarks.

President Un nods as he looks down at his clasped hands. "Yes. But... I'm afraid I may not live to see it completed." He is silent for a moment as he ponders his fellow leaders and allies. "My age is starting to catch up to me, despite the advances in medical technology we have made..."

Seph is shocked for a moment. "Un... Chae... I..." He falls silent as the Taiwanese man looks him in the eye and optic.

"President Matthews, can I count on you to make sure my dream comes true for my people? That they are given back their homeland? And that their legacy can be reborn in a true Republic of China?" he asks. "And that my descendants know that it was my dream to return China to her people?"

The Australian President hesitates, but then he reaches out and clasps Un's hands with his own. "Chae... I will do my damned best to ensure that it happens," he says. "As an ally, and as a friend."

President Un smiles, for the first time in forever a genuine one crossing his face. In all his career as a soldier and politician, he has never met anyone as honest and determined as Joseph Matthews. And personally, it makes him feel glad for that. At least this generation can fix the mistakes of the old under his leadership.

Minaguma finally clears her throat and draws their eyes back to her and Largina. "So, back on track. You say we'll each get a Mobile Suit?"

Seph nods as he sits back in his seat. "That's right, mate. Got an issue with it?"

She shakes her head. "No. Just making sure you're not trying to skimp out on us." She leans back in her seat, placing her hands in front of her on the table. "We got other troubles though, too. Remember Pok? She's threatening to make a move into our waters."

Seph snorts. "Figured. That test though should keep them back. Just beam the footage back to them with a message. That always works."

"I don't think it will work this tine," Largina muses in his raspy voice.

"Why not?" Minaguma asks. "I mean, it worked before."

The Filipino nods. "Yes. But that was before. They know we have the missiles. But they also know, based on us showing them this footage repeatedly, that we're not going to use them. So far they've lingered behind their borders, not because they're fearful of us, but because they're trying to _test_ us." His eyes harden. "Or rather testing our resolve to not use them."

Seph's eye narrows as he ponders his words. "Then we'll have to show them something they will be fearful of for a while..." he mutters. He leans forward, his hands in front of his mouth. "The only problem is we don't have anything else, and I don't want to risk exposing our black ops project to them."

In is silent as he scans the table. "There is another way," he says. "And you know what it is, do you not?"

Seph's teeth grit as he remembers the deal. "Yeah... But I don't want to put the beachhead and its troops at risk for war right now. Not when we have Panem encroaching on our territory."

The Taiwanese President smirks. "Not in the way you fear, President Matthews," he says. "If you think about it, if such an action is taken, we could use it as an ultimatum. If they do not wish their 'ally' to be attacked, they will back off and leave us alone until we are in a better position. And with the alliance just established with the Egyptian Union, it could give us some leverage."

"Not in the way we need, Un," Seph shouts back. "They're low on every asset imaginable for defense: tanks, jets, guns, ammunition, fuel, supplies... It's a disaster zone there. Even with everything they salvage, it's not enough."

"True. But they have something that the Caliphate does not." Un's blue eyes glimmer. "Remember... the Suez Canal runs through Egypt. And since the end of the Apocalypse... it's been in their hands..."

Seph's eye narrows. "So? I know what that means. But you gotta remember, Un. They could find a way to get around the canal."

"As well as the Strait of Gibraltar," Un finishes, a smirk crossing his face.

Seph's eye goes wide at that last statement. "Wait, what?"

Un grins. "You heard me, Matthews. The Egyptians have gotten their hands on the Strait as well as the Canal. They have complete control of the access to the Mediterranean Sea."

"How'd they manage that?!" Minaguma blurts, slamming her hands on the table. "I thought they were low on assets!"

"Last I heard from one of my spies was that they had talks with the remnants of Spain in the works. They agreed to hand over all control of the Strait in exchange for an alliance. And this brings another country under our protection as well," Un says, leaning back in his seat, confidence brimming in his eyes. "Isn't that what you wanted, Matthews?" He directs the question at Seph, who is now silent as his eye hardens.

"Not exactly..." he mutters. "An alliance with Spain... Getting the green oil to the Union is hard enough. But to get it to Spain... that's a whole new slew of problems."

Largina on the other hand is thoughtful. He leans forward on his cane. "We have no idea as to what the political situation in Spain is. It is a big risk bringing them under our nuclear umbrella," he rasps. "Especially as the others have nuclear missiles stored in that region as well."

Seph frowns. He knows the Filipino has a point. But then again, there are those who still live in what the world calls the Wastelands, or areas that are affected the worst by the radioactive fallout from the Apocalypse. Spain is one of those that were hit hard. And those in the Wastelands are fair game for Panem. And yet some people in those regions turn to fascism or dictatorships while democracy lasts only a short time. In contrast to the days of old, of course.

And yet here is a golden opportunity to try and start reaching out beyond the Eastern Hemisphere.

He closes his eye as he ponders the risks and consequences.

He finally looks at Minaguma. "What say you?" he asks.

She purses her lips, trying to think. This is a risk, but at the same time, it's a once in a lifetime chance. She sighs. "President Matthews... Seph... I agree it could be a risk, but then again, this is a once-in-a-lifetime chance. We have a chance to expand our range. We have a chance to start to restore old world ideals! Spain... they agreed to this because they seek protection from Panem, yes, but if this works... we could also deny Panem vital oil supplies from the Caliphate! As well as deny naval assistance to them! Think about it!" Her blue eyes are alight as she speaks. "This means we could control the Med, and they'd have to resort to other methods of getting their precious black sludge across territories! It would also mean we could control the amount of oil coming through those two spaces! We've got a chance, Seph! A chance to show the world we're not screwing around anymore! Those two locations give us the chance we need!"

"And what if Panem has resources that can be used against them?!" Largina hisses. "They're currently allied with the Union of Sovereign States! And they're a _communist_ country!

Minaguma narrows her eyes. She knows he has a point, but he is overlooking something. "True. But if you think about it, there's the Swiss Confederation, and they as much as us and Britain, wish for peace, albeit a bit different from what we're working towards," she says. "And that means that the USS and Caliphate have to contend with British influence in the area. The Swiss, as you know, are neutral. And we have a standing treaty with them. If we do not get involved, they leave us alone. But as of recently, we've been becoming more active in global affairs. That brings us back to the point here."

Seph, however, has his head bowed and his eye is closed. There are many uncertainties regarding the Spanish remnants, and there also are possible risks to having control of _both_ the Strait and Suez Canal. To be able to deny Panem the ability to transport that dirty sludge from the ground is one thing. But it also means that there is the chance of war breaking out. And yet...

There are just too many unknowns, and the Confederation has a tendency to be prepared for just about anything. But this time... it's beyond their imaginations. The possibilities are infinite, and so on. He finally lifts his head and opens his eye. "There are just too many risks," he says, catching them by surprise.

"Too many risks in general?" Un asks quietly.

Seph nods. "Yes. While the Union does possess the ability to deny the Caliphate and USS that sludge, it's also fraught with risk because it could lead to war. And the Spanish factor. That is the biggest risk." His eye hardens as his optic flashes in contemplation. "How do we know that they're not working for Panem? Who can we trust on that matter?" He pauses. "So we have to think."

Everyone falls silent at that.

They have reached an impasse. Two are for it, two are against it or unsure.

Un sighs. "But... there isn't another way?" he asks.

"Aside from a compromise, I don't see one," Largina rasps.

Minaguma nods. "We have no choice."

Seph is silent, but he nods. "Yeah. A compromise. We'll say that we accept the alliance with Spain and the Union, and that we'll do everything we can to protect them. But until we know more about the political situation in Spain, we cannot meet with them, nor establish a formal alliance until then. And as for the Canal and Strait... Well, they have to let Panemian ships deliver the sludge until further notice."

"I don't know if they'll take too kindly to that..." Minaguma mutters.

"Better that than not at all," Seph tells her coldly. "Unless you wanna be the one who starts WWIV..."

Her eyes widen and she pales. "No!" she squeaks.

The President nods. "Thought so." He then addresses the group as a whole. "So, it's all agreed then?"

Un nods his head. "Yes."

Largina rasps, "Yes."

Minaguma hesitates, but nods her assent. "Yes."

"All right. I'll issue the compromise soon via hologram." Seph finally leans back and sighs. "I just hope things work out for us..."

"It's a step in the right direction, President Matthews," Largina points out. "We do wish for this, do we not?"

He nods, his eye drifting towards the window to look out at the city-like complex. His gaze softens as he remembers what's coming up. "Yeah... And... hopefully, we won't have to remember the damn Games... or those children who were murdered like so many bloody sheep..."

All three leaders wince at that. "I take it everyone will be getting ready then?" Minaguma asks.

The President frowns. "I'm sure they well, but as you know, it's tradition for the President to issue the announcement, and then the preparations begin. In the winter is when the memorial takes place, during the so-called "Victory Tour." He grimaces at the thought.

"It's nothing but a parade celebrating a murderer..." Un muses, his eyes hard like diamonds. He leans forward a bit, his mouth hidden by his clasped hands. "And that... is not right. It's basically saying 'here is who you could be: a serial killer. Take pride in murdering children. Train for it. And be celebrated for it.'"

Largina's face is unreadable due to the mask, but the harsh intake of breath through the two slats indicates he is also disgusted. "So, what's the plan this year, Matthews?"

Seph shrugs. "Not sure yet. I have to make the announcement to the whole Confederation. And then we'll begin the preparations. I'll inform you once we have it in place."

His fellow leaders nod in agreement. "Right," Un says. He stands up, pushing his chair back. "I have to get going. My granddaughter is coming over with her newborn son."

Seph's eye widens. "You're a great-grandfather?"

Un nods with a small smile. "Yes. And I have to admit, I'm kind of proud to be one."

"Well, congratulations," Minaguma says. She smiles. "Hope you have fun with your great-grandson."

Largina stands up as well. "I also have to go. I am supposed to give an announcement on the state of affairs in a few hours."

"Very well. I'll see you all next meeting, mates," Seph says.

The three leaders file out, and Seph follows after.

* * *

 **Location: Press Office, Meldney Complex - Australia**

 **Time: 1845 hours**

Seph feels immensely relieved to be away from the hustle and bustle of the government for a while. At least now he can focus on what's to come: preparations for this year's Christmas festivities.

Normally Christmas is not associated with the Hunger Games, but after the first fifteen Games, the Australian President back then, Gerald Oppenheimer, started a new tradition that quickly took root. In place of the festivities after the actual holiday, there were to be six days of remembrance for the dead children. At first it had started out as a minor thing, with only brief photographs and snippets of the dead tributes, and people mourned them. It was a somber event, and some people couldn't take it at first. So it was turned into a quiet moment, with people choosing to remember if they wished to. In recent years however, after the failure of the second rebellion twenty years ago, it became something of a festival in its own right. Sure it was still somber, and sad, but this time it was more of a defiance of sorts, with people starting to gather out in larger crowds and carrying with them menorahs with candles in them. Candles that had been dubbed "Katniss Kandles" after the failed Mockingjay, Katniss Everdeen. The menorahs were also heavily modified to be able to hold twenty-four candles, each with a tribute's name on them. And all twenty four were supposed to burn for six days. When the candles finished burning, it was always followed by a moment of silence before the real event, the concerts, took place.

The concerts tend to be the biggest event of the year, with millions of people turning out all across the Confederation, to hear the songs intended to defy the Capitol and Panem's secularism.

A small smile crosses his face as he straightens his uniform and runs a hand through his hair. "Well... here we go..."

He steps out into the press room as the cameras start flashing. The entire room is filled with people from every news agency in the Confederation, including a few from outside in Britain, he notes with mild surprise.

Seph shifts before he opens his mouth and begins to speak.

Across the entire Australian Confederation, in homes, businesses, schools, and military bases, TV screens and tablets, smartphones and laptops, all light up with the announcement. People all stop what they are doing, gather around the screens, and start to listen intently. After eighty years of this, they know what to expect when the President comes on all news channels.

" _My fellow Australians, and all people in the Confederation. Today, as you know, marks the beginning of the Ninety-Fifth Hunger Games. Ninety-five years of unbridled murder, glorified serial killers, and worst of all, violation of civil and human rights for children._

" _This is a tradition that Panem has come to glorify and celebrate. But it is not a bloody celebration. Nor is it a bloody festival. It is nothing but a barbaric tradition that stems from the sick man who sought to make the rebels suffer by having their most precious people killed by their own hands. It is a tradition that calls for people to ignore the fact that children are the next generation. This calls for people to forget that children are to be protected, not slaughtered like lambs! And that is why we have this event of our own during the so-called 'Victory Tour.' It reminds us of the fact that each child that died was just that: a_ child.

" _I have to admit, I'm getting damn sick of this. Having to remember the dead like this. But how else can we remember them? The answer is, we have no other way. Right now, as they are preparing them for the slaughter, so we too should start preparing for the coming Days of Remembrance. Those six days where the children are never forgotten._

" _So let us focus on that, but also, despite everything, we must go about our lives. It is hard, I know, but this time of year is a somber one for us. This is a time of year for letting ourselves get in touch with our humanity. Do not lose sight of that. To remember the dead children is only right. It marks us as human. Unlike so many others abroad..._

" _The event will, as usual, culminate in several songs sung by our most famous singers. And this year, I hope we have something different, not just the usual religious and holiday songs. So until then, let us focus on the things to come. God Bless the Confederation._ "

With that, the screens shut down and people everywhere start to get to work.

But for Seph, the work has just begun.

Now he has to answer several questions. He raises a hand and points to a woman with long black hair and dark brown eyes in the back of the room. She raises her mike in his direction.

"Mr. President, my name is Vân Phạm of _World News Australia Late_. Is there anything you can tell us so far about the Games this year?"

Seph shakes his head. "Unfortunately we do not have any information as of right now. But what we do know is the current roster of this year's tributes. Some of them are from outlying districts and have caught the eye of some of our spies, so we'll be keeping tabs on them."

"Any that seem like they'd be good assets?"

Another shake of the head follows this question. "Negative. We're not going to risk it."

A man in the front row shoves his mike towards Seph. "Mr. President, I'm with _The Australian_. I'm Kostya Fyodorov. I heard about the incursion in the Pacific with Panem's Grand Pacific Formation. Is it true that they were driven off by a black ops project you had in the works?"

Seph's eye hardens as he faces the man directly. "Mr. Fyodorov, that information is classified. I can say we did have something that drove them off, but I can't say lest Panem overhear us via our news stations. All I can say though is that we did have a bit of a surprise when they tried to take over the rigs. I guess my choice to let the rig commanders arm them to the teeth was a good idea." A few chuckles echo in the room and he feels the tension lighten in the atmosphere.

"Mr. President!" a few others cry out. Seph pauses, looking around before he points at a woman with a thatch of bright green hair and dark brown eyes.

"I'm Mei Yuen with _ABC News_. Is it true that Panem is not going to retreat from drilling for oil in our territory?" she asks, shoving her mike at Seph.

The President frowns. "From the looks of things, it may not be happening any time soon," he said seriously. "And frankly, it worries me. I can only hope that someday things will work out for us... and we can get Panem to remember what they lost."

She frowns at his response, but nods. "All right."

The question and answer session continues for ten minutes, during which Seph answers questions on Panem's drilling, the Hunger Games, and even the upcoming Days of Remembrance.

When the press finally leaves, he heads back to his quarters and shuts the door behind him.

Only to see the one woman who he has expected.

Sister Nina Aleksandrov.

He knows who she is, from reports and prior events.

Born into a family descended from the last of the Vatican members, she was raised Catholic. But when she was fifteen she discovered the Christian Church and never deviated from it. She became a well known priestess, preaching the gospel in lands that often ignored it, like mainland China. Sure there had been some success there, but not to the extent that her parishioners had hoped. By the time she was in her thirties, she had a following of over one million across the country, with five million in the Confederation. Her powerful words and ability to draw people to her made her a very popular figure. But when she was forty two, she had also discovered the power of music to pass on her messages. Her popularity skyrocketed, and Nina became a household name.

She is now one of the most popular singers in the Confederation, and she often sings at the Remembrance Concert.

She is now in her late sixties, but still going strong. Her hair, while as white as snow, is still braided in her signature hairstyle, and she wears her usual priestess garb, complete with the cross around her neck. She also wears her headband with the twin V-fins of Wing Zero Gundam: Endless Waltz version. Her blue eyes sparkle as she sees Seph step into the room.

"Mr. President," she greets.

"Sister." Seph bows respectfully as she flitters around to the other side of his desk and takes her seat. "I didn't expect you for another few hours," he adds as he sits down in front of her.

"Neither did I. But something has come up you should be aware of," Nina says seriously. She grips the cross around her neck. "You are aware of the 95th Games, yes?"

"Always," Seph snorts, his optic flaring red as his green eye becomes a shard of emerald. "Don't think that we're unaware. Our spies have always informed us of this ever since the damn bloody Games began."

"Yes. But it has to do with the aftermath," Sister Aleksandrov says, her gaze locking with his. "You know the Lord acts in mysterious ways, correct?"

Seph's eye narrows as he remembers the history lessons of his youth. The Messages, as they are called, stand out in his mind clear as crystal. "How could I not know that? We're still trying to figure out the sender of the Messages."

The priestess nods. "I was touched by the Lord last night. Or rather, He showed me what could happen in the aftermath of the 100th Games." She is solemn as she speaks. "I do not know the entirety of the message He gave me, but it showed a nation torn asunder, blood spilled abroad and at home. The conflict's reach was unknown... and it worries me."

"So what you're saying is that a war may break out, and we'll need to be prepared?" Seph asks.

"I can only guess that that is what He meant. But His messages are pretty vague to me," Nina admits. "Regardless, it is something we must anticipate."

Seph nods. In truth, he doubts her words as to having received a vision from God, but he isn't about to forget the possibility of another war breaking out over the ending of the Hunger Games. Cold, rational logic is pointing towards that. "I'll keep that in mind," he says. He is about to reach for his phone when her next words stop him.

"Also, I have a request."

"Pardon?" He cocks an eyebrow.

"I wish that this year's concert is not just broadcast to the Confederation, but to the world as a whole." Nina's eyes are hard as he removes his hand from the phone and places it on his face in thought.

"A global broadcast, huh?" Seph muses. "Any particular reason?"

"Yes." Nina nods as she moves to smooth her robes. "It may help ease the pain of their spiritual rebirth."

 _Now_ Seph gets a vague idea as to what she is getting at. "A vision of a nation torn asunder... That's Panem, I take it?"

"I said we can only guess," she says.

Seph frowns. "Right." He ponders the situation at hand, and his eye narrows. "But what I want to know is... why? Why a global broadcast? There has to be a reason for it."

Nina nods. "There is. To broadcast our defiance of Panem and this 'new' world order that has persisted for decades. The _old_ world order people have feared for years back Before the Fall. Also... what do you know of the education in Panem?"

Seph grunts. "Don't remind me. People are ignorant as to their full history. I quizzed the captain of the Grand Pacific Formation on what the date of America's revolution was, and she had no idea." He grimaces. "Being ignorant to world history is a recipe for history to repeat itself."

Nina shifts in her seat, gazing out at the buildings of the Meldney Complex. Her blue eyes soften a bit as she sighs. "Such actions cannot be justified unless it is to control their thinking. Similar to what Nazi Germany did back during World War II..."

"I know. But there has to be a reason you asked me if I knew the level of education in Panem, and the request for a global concert." His eye narrows a bit more as he leans forward, his right hand tapping the top of the desk. "Let me guess... You got something in the works?" he asks, pressing her for information.

The priestess smiles a bit. "Yes. A sort of history lesson. A song that may encourage them to start asking questions." She reaches into a pouch on her robes and pulls out her tablet. She does a few finger motions and then hands it to him. Seph takes it and looks it over, his eye widening.

"This... You thought this up on your own?" he asks, looking up in shock.

Nina nods. "Yes. It has taken me months to figure out the proper lyrics and beat. I only ask your permission to play it at the concert."

"So _that's_ why you requested it to be broadcast globally..." Seph muses with a smirk. "I like your style. I really do." He handed her tablet back to her and she pocketed it. "You have my permission to play that song. _And_ the concert will be broadcast globally too."

The Russian priestess smiles as she stands up. "I thank you, President Matthews. I can only pray that the Lord guides us in our darkest hours, as He has so many years before."

* * *

 **Location: Meldney Complex - Armed Forces Division**

 **Time: 1845 hours**

Hunter is glad for one thing: the damn Panemians aren't going to risk any more of their ships getting damaged after that one incursion. This gives him some time to ponder what is happening in the world, and the events that have led up to the current world order as they know it.

He still recalls the stories told by his grandparents and history taught by his teachers over the course of his schooling.

Back during the Before the Fall era, things had been better. Sure strife was common, but at least people had been, for the most part, at peace and tolerant of one another, respectful of human rights, and valued children as the next generation, not playthings in some bloody murderfest treated as a sporting event by the ruling elites. But then, the Apocalypse broke out in 2019, or 0000 AF.

He recalls hearing stories of nuclear fire raining from the heavens onto towns and cities, with people dying in the hundreds of thousands, if not millions, leaving only razed land and radioactive wastelands behind. True the world was starting to recover, but for the most part it was still destroyed or dying. When the climate changed sometime in the 0020s to 0090s AF, or around that date (it is often argued that the climate change was well underway prior to the Apocalypse, but it's still disputed even to this day, so no one really knows for sure), the people adapted, and many others still died when they failed to adapt or move to higher ground when the floods came.

He can remember the tales of the founding of the remaining power blocs in the world. The rise of the Union of Sovereign States after the Apocalypse was one of the big ones, as then Europe was threatened. Britain, the remaining democracy on the planet aside from Australia, started to clash with an old ally, becoming one of two holdouts. The Caliphate arose around the same time, taking control of the oil resources of the Middle East, while North Korea went on a bloody conquering spree and took control of the majority of Asia, save for the three future Confederation members, which took to fighting them as best they could.

The rise of Panem is another matter entirely.

With it came a hope for a better future, but then things changed for the worse after the First Revolution. Panem was turned into a barbaric state, and people started to lose who they once were.

But with it, came a new hope as well. Britain, which had by then started to expand its influence once more, made contact with their former colony and Dominion member, now a powerhouse in her own right. The Australian government by then expanded the armed forces to become the dominant military presence in the Easter Hemisphere, clashing with the UDPRK and Chinese remnants at sea, on land, and in the air. The country also became a green energy powerhouse, which surprised Britain's reigning monarch at the time. The two countries reforged an alliance, with the British crown accepting the Australians' newfound sovereignty and the oil they no longer used (although Australia is also selling them the green oil derived from algae as well.)

With this newfound alliance, Australia gained new military tech that they put to good use; such tech included plasma weapons which were swiftly adapted into many new forms, such as beam sabers, shields, and guns.

As Panem began to slide back into civil war again though, the world's most powerful nation in the Eastern Hemisphere decided to plan for the assistance of the rebels. Their plans included attacking the Capitol with a special ops team, killing Snow on live TV as well as his cronies in a brutal fashion, and wiping out the entire city with a nuclear hydrogen missile. Poison gas was considered as a means to make Snow die a very agonizing death, and one outrageous scheme included having the deceased children's families or descendants kill the tyrant himself. Yet after the failure of the resistance to topple the tyrannical government, the Australians scrapped the plans to assist the resistance and decided to wait and see what happened next.

By the time Kane was elected, people were starting to hope for a better future, even if things were still not as good as they could've been, considering the fascist nature of the government's Ultranationalists in power.

Hunter finally is drawn out of his musings and recollections by one of the officers tapping on his desk.

"What?" he asks, rubbing his head briefly.

"Sir, we have the satellites ready to track the 'tributes.'" The officer quotes the word with disgust in his voice.

Hunter nods. "Good work. Let's make sure that the blokes don't know they're being tracked. Panem is not stupid you know."

The officer nods. "Yes, sir." He salutes crisply. And yet he seems a bit uneasy. Hunter notices this.

"Something up?" he asks.

The young air force officer nods. "I'm concerned that Panem might notice we have spy sats directed at them," he mutters, dropping his salute.

Hunter purses his lips before he sighs. "Look. We've got sats aimed at what sats they have. So we'll know if they've spotted them," he says, trying to reassure the youth.

The man smiles faintly. "Yeah. I guess I forgot about that."

"We all make mistakes, mate. We're only human," Hunter says as he places a hand on the man's shoulder. "Now why don't you go get yourself something to drink? You look like you could use it."

The officer nodded and makes his way out down to the cafeteria, leaving Hunter alone with his thoughts once again. As he sits there, he begins to ponder their next move.

He glances out the window, his eyes narrowing as he remembers Seph's recent report. The new machine has worked as intended, and it does show that Australia is no longer messing around. Of course, Japan was the first one to pioneer the use of piloted humanoid mecha in construction and heavy labor, and since they were experienced in their construction, it made sense to ask the Japanese government to build it in secrecy. Only Largina and Un were privy to the secret, along with Hunter, Martha, and Tina.

But to actually have developed a real working _Gundam_ of all things... it still blows his mind. So that means that they'd have something to think about this time. Well, Panem, anyway. He only hopes that Panem won't get too greedy for the technology.

* * *

 **And here we go, peeps! Here's the next chapter! :D And it is tied directly to Haus der Toten. :) So be sure to read and review, my peeps! :D**

 **Ja ne! ;)**


	5. Savin' Me

"Seph! Seph, wake up!"

The pounding on the door is enough to wake him up.

Seph groans as he sits up, throwing the covers off his body and grabbing the alarm clock beside his and Tina's bed. The time flashing reads _5:00_. He grumbles under his breath as he gets off the bed and grabs a pair of Bermuda shorts, throwing them on as the door slides open. He is surprised as his best friends pile into the room, both of them looking incredibly worried.

Tina sits up, rubbing her eyes with her free hand as she covers her naked body with the blankets and sheets. "Seph? What's going on?" she asks in a sleepy tone.

"I have no idea, Tina," Seph admits as he looks at them. "What's going on?"

Hunter is the first to thrust the tablet at him. "See for yourself, mate! It's not good..."

* * *

 **(** _The scene shows a small flame before darkness snuffs it out. But a small ember burns..._ **)**

 **Hikari ga tsudzuku... ! (** _The ember is blown away, becoming one of many as the sun begins to rise beyond a war-torn town._ **)**

 **Hikari ga tsudzuku... ! (** _The light from the sun overcomes the camera and it fills the screen before fading to show the skyline of Sydney and the name of the series._ **)**

 **Yami ga sono tochi o shuchō suru kamo shirenai (** _The image flares before it shows two people trapped in a ruined structure in what was once Shanghai. They are both shaking and are wounded from shrapnel._ **)**

 **Shikashi, kibō wa enjo no te o kasu (** _A pair of explosions rocks the area and they huddle and whimper before someone lifts the debris off the two of them. It is a group of Australian soldiers._ **)**

 **Sekai ga kawaru to (** _The soldiers help the two children to their feet before one of them grabs a grenade and throws it at some bandits coming to pillage. The grenade explodes before the debris falls away, exposing the ruins of Europe, Marshal Sergei Kudryavtsev's image over the continent, King Lawrence III opposing him over Europe as well._ **)**

 **Furui risō wa moe tsudzukeru (** _The scene is engulfed in a bright flash as it shows Korean soldiers storming through city ruins in what was once Seoul, South Korea, carrying Panemian weaponry as rebels fight back desperately. Above them is Ahn Sun Pok, her face twisted into a sneer as she holds her hands upwards, as if mocking the world's helplessness. Behind her is the Panemian Vice President while President Kane is off to the side, gazing at the sky._ **)**

 **Kieru hikarinonakade (** _With a wave of her hand, she commands the forces to open fire on rebel positions. Missiles rain down, the black smoke engulfing the area before it is blown aside by a hoverplane._ **)**

 **Kurayami ga hirogaru ni tsurete (** _The hoverplane is painted in Arabian colors, and on top of the imposing palace is Muthasim V, the sultan. He looks back as it fades to a map, showing the Egyptian Union breaking away from them. But then it shows the country turning a bluish green as it fades to show a new figure in the shadows._ **)**

 **Watashitachi no kibō wa tsudzukudeshou (** _The figure holds up its right arm before it lunges out, coming into the light to reveal Seph Matthews as he swings his beam saber mounted onto his right arm, cutting through a bandit before spinning and cleaving another's gun in two, following up with a left hook leaving him dazed. He turns, his left optics lens flaring red as it engulfs the screen._ **)**

 **Watashitachi ga mada ikite iru kagiri (** _The light fades to show three other members, all of them gathered around in front of the Meldney Complex. To the left is Japanese Empress Yuki Minaguma. To the right is Filipino President Gueo Largina. And in the middle is Taiwanese President Chae Yang Un. Behind them the flag of the Australian Confederation flutters before the camera zooms in on it, only for it to fall away._ **)**

 **Un, hikari ga tsudzuku! (** _The image of Sydney is revealed, above it Seph and his fellow leaders side by side with the sun behind them, the Australian Confederation flag above them all as the series name appears below them._ **)**

* * *

 **Chapter 4: Savin' Me**

 **Location: President's Quarters, Meldney Complex - Australia**

 **Time: 0530 hours**

 **Date: Friday, 12 May, 139 AF (2158 AD)**

"They _what?!_ " Seph's shout is enough to startle a few starlings out of their nests close by.

Hunter nods. "They caught some of our spies. Not all of them, but enough to give us worry."

Seph growls as he grips the tablet in his left hand. "Dammit... That means that we'll need to be prepared for if they start to create mutts that could be immune to the gas we've developed," he mutters.

The foursome are currently sitting around the table in the living area of the President's Quarters, mostly dressed in their nightclothes. Seph at least has the dignity to don a tank top as well. "This means big trouble for our intelligence ops."

"Not as bad as the next thing," Martha says, handing him a second tablet. "This just in from one of the rigs close by."

Seph takes it, feeling a sense of dread building. As soon as he looks at it though, his eye goes wide and his optic flares red in his shock and anger. "Those damn barbies!" he hisses, slamming the tablet down on the table and getting up. "That is the last straw! I want the ERC down there stat to begin cleanup and restoration efforts at once!"

Hunter's eyes widen. "You're sending the Environmental Restoration Command down there?!"

Martha and Tina both gape in shock. They all know of the Environmental Restoration Command established fifty years ago after Panem stripped a small island completely of its forestation and resources. While considered an environmental group, it is actually a militarized restoration group focused on restoring forestry to stripped regions of the world within their sphere of influence. The command is funded like any other military unit, and it's also equipped like it to prevent any future offenders from attacking the newly restored areas for lumber and timber. The ERC is also the first line of defense when it came to oil spills, using a recently developed solution of nanobuilders to strip the oil down to basic molecules to remove it from the water before using them to reconstruct trees to rebuild the forests.

Seph nods. "I am."

Tina leans in and takes the tablet, studying the satellite image of several oil rigs on fire, a large pool of oil seeping out into the area. But it isn't just that. It shows an image of Papua New Guinea off to the side, and she blinks in shock. The _entire nation_ is stripped bare. Not just of trees, but of houses and anything that could be used. Her eyes widens and she looks back at her husband. "Seph..." He turns as she zooms in on the image of PNG and hands him the tablet.

His eye narrows dangerously as he grits his teeth, clenching his right hand into a fist. He whirls around and slams the tablet down onto the table a second time before he makes his way to the phone. "I'm sick of this!" he snarls. "Sick of it! Panem is _not_ going to keep getting away with this!" He grabs the phone and makes to dial the first number that comes to his mind.

"Seph, you sure?" Hunter asks. "Panem..."

"-is going to regret using the world as their oyster! _No one_ should be this powerful! We _have_ to break up Panem's reach, no matter what!" Seph snarls. "And I will do that, somehow!"

"Yes, but remember. We have to keep level heads," Martha reminds him. "I agree that Panem's influence is way too much. And frankly, that's why we have to do what we can to ensure that we gain the resources of the Wastelands at once: to _deny_ them those resources!"

"That's what we thought too, back when President Brandon Eustis annexed all of the countries surrounding us," Seph grumbles. "But Panem clearly violated our territorial borders there. So we have to show them we mean business."

"And we can, and will. But remaining calm is only one part. We have to _think,_ Seph!" Martha urges. She places a hand on his mechanical one. "Once we gain more power and influence, we can show those bloody bastards what we can really do."

The President pauses, looking down at the floor. "Right. Sorry. I just sometimes let my emotions get the best of me at times," he mutters. "I just don't know what I did to deserve a team like you guys."

"It comes from the years of service, mate," Hunter says, joining the former soldier. "But Martha's right. We all have to remain level headed. Even me."

Seph finally stands up straight and sighs. "Martha, I want you to send the ERC down to the site of the oil spill and down to Papua New Guinea to begin restoration efforts ASAP." He turns to his friends and wife. "Once we get that going, I want a spy sat to angle right for Panem, Hunter. Scope it out, and try and find the damn arena. Also, I want to explore possible uses of the nanobuilders to attack the molecular makeup of the muttations used since our spy operations were compromised. If we don't have the data on the muttations currently in development, we can't use the poison gas."

"Right." Martha salutes and Hunter nods in agreement.

"Tina, I need you to get in contact with the Chief of the Navy and ask her to have the _Missouri, Iowa, New Jersey, and Wisconsin_ on standby. Also get the _Enterprise_ ready to deploy as well," Seph tells his wife. "We may be needing the heavy hitters out there."

Tina salutes crisply. "Got it. And you? What will you be doing?"

"Getting prepared for the next incursion," Seph mutters. "But I'm also going to be heading out later today to see the damage for myself."

His best friends and wife nod.

With that, they split up to do their assigned tasks.

Seph meanwhile decides to get ready for the day and start his own preparations for the coming months. He is soon en route to the base at Coober Pedy, the former mining town-turned-missile silo, the helicopter taking him directly to the commander's office. As soon as the helicopter touches down, he's out and running for the building. A few personnel are surprised to see him out and about in the area.

"What's the President doing here?"

"Think he's gonna tell us nukes have started flying?"

"Maybe, or maybe not... You can't really tell with this man."

Whispers and different rumors start to float about, but Seph pays them no mind as he finally approaches the headquarters for Australia's Missile Command. The guards in front of the door are surprised, but they salute him just the same.

"Mr. President!"

"At ease, soldiers," Seph says. "I've got to talk with the commander."

"Yes, sir. She's in the office right now," the female closest to the door says.

Seph nods. "Thanks, mate."

As he heads in, he can only wonder how the others are doing.

* * *

Martha sits behind her desk as she studies the man before her. He stands at five foot eleven, with a shock of deep red hair and purple eyes. His body is lean, but strong, and he currently is dressed in a military uniform. But right underneath the Australian Confederation flag is a circle with a tree in the center, the circle encased within two rings crossing in an X pattern. His battle rifle is currently resting against his back and he stands at attention as she looks him over.

General Jong-Su "Zero" Ngô may have been a military soldier, but he is far from the trigger happy types that dominated at these ranks. At forty-two, he is the pinnacle of career soldiering, having experience in China and near Korea's borders, as well as knowledge of the political machine at this rank. His only regret is having had to deal with the fallout of the battles, which is why he changed branches to the Environmental Restoration Command in 0132 AF. With seven years of environmental clearance and repair under his belt, he's the ideal person to head the restoration and cleanup efforts around Papua New Guinea.

His eyes narrow as she finishes speaking. "So they're trying to mess things up for us..." he muses. He lowers his attention stance and folds his arms. "Damn barbies..."

"I know. President Matthews wants you and the 1st Restoration Division to head on down to Papua New Guinea and to send the 2nd Damage Control Group down to the site of the spill," Martha explains. "It's not a pretty sight, seeing as how most of the rigs there were of Panemian origin."

"Hmm..." Zero purses his lips as he hears that. "So they destroyed them and left a big mess for us to clean up, knowing it would keep us busy for years."

The Vice President nods seriously. "Yes. And that further complicates matters. If we're busy, then we can't send a good portion of our fleet out to be ready should they try anything again."

"So that's why you want us to get to work on it ASAP," Zero says. He looks up at her. "I can't guarantee anything, but we'll do our damned best to clean up the spill. It will probably be about two years, maybe more, if we put most of our resources on it."

Martha is silent as she ponders that. She finally shakes her head. "No, General. Don't do that. If we do, then we'll be stretched thin with the ERC. And we can't afford to have that happen. Not when we have other issues to worry about."

Zero sees she is serious and nods. "I understand, ma'am. But should the need come to it, I request that some of the resources that are not in use be sent if it's bad enough."

That's a compromise Martha sees sense in. She nods. "I can deal with that."

The general salutes.

"Now get going. Any more delays and we'll be busy for even longer."

Zero turns on his heel and marches out of the room, his focus coming into play. He grits his teeth as he clenches his fists. "Damn them! They know we care about the environment and are using it against us!" he mutters. "Well, we'll show them!"

While he is in charge of environmental cleanup and restoration, he isn't about to let some advantages go unnoticed. And leaving the rigs is a key one. While Panem may have destroyed their equipment, if the rigs are mostly intact, they can be used against them since Australia will command them. It means that the AC will be able to gain more influence and start to make an impact on the world stage moreso. It all depends on the overall condition of the rigs though.

His eyes flick down to the emblem on his uniform and he rubs it. The ERC is a very interesting unit, he muses, with its fair share of controversies. But thankfully it's not in a conspiratorial sense. The crazies know better than that, aside from the few diehards that linger in the aftermath.

He looks up from the emblem and continues on his path, heading right for the roof. As he passes by several government workers, he gives salutes and acknowledges them, but his mind is focused solely on trying to salvage the rigs. At least making sure they are in a condition to be salvaged, anyway. That is the one factor; either they are able to be salvaged... or not. He just isn't sure.

He purses his lips as he scans over the list of materials he requested be sent for the cleanup.

At least the important stuff, anyway.

He only wonders what President Matthews is doing at this moment.

* * *

 _ **Flashback**_

 _ **Location: President's Quarters, Meldney Complex - Australia**_

 _ **Time: 1900 hours**_

 _ **Date: Thursday, 11 May, 139 AF (2158 AD)**_

 _President Matthews frowns as he sits at his desk, his arms resting on it and his fingers clasped in front of his mouth. His green eye roves over the entire tribute line, and his optic flashes briefly before he starts analyzing their features and behaviors. Some are proud, and others are not so happy. His eye narrows in anger and hatred for the way they are being paraded like so many animals ready for a slaughterfest. He feels his right hand clenching on instinct and he directs his fury into his thoughts._

 _It helps him to remain somewhat calm and composed, and it gives him an edge, something that he discovered in combat. When he focuses his anger towards a goal, he is able to think clearly and remain calm._

 _At this point, it'_ _s directed at analyzing each of the tributes for any possible aspects that could spark a possible rebellion. While it's not advisable, he needs to consider the fact that if Panem squashes a third one, there won't be any hope left._

 _He can hear the Capitolite speaker beginning to make comments on the outfits and he snorts audibly._

"Oop here they are, the tributes!"

"Snow Island leads the pack of course with Rafaela Novia and Nicolao Lucritus. Of course, they bring the Caribbean glitz and glam with a peacock bikini for Rafaela and the trunks for Nicolao!"

Rafaela blows kisses towards the audience as Nicolao tosses beads and leis toward the spectators.

 _The President rolls his eye. Such attention hogs. At least not as bad as the Careers of District 2._ That _is the one he wants to deprogram from this barbaric pride of theirs. To force them to face their humanity full force like a ship ramming into an iceberg. He shifts his attention back to the other tributes._

"Could you explain those outfits to us Francisco or Joyceta?"

"Oh um, those outfits are commonly used for festivals and night shows in Snow Island."

"I ought to visit Snow Island again! District 1 of course has a _steamy_ gold and gem encrusted one piece and cape with accessories for Luana Evison and a tunic, cape and matching accessories for the Vincent Barlow."

Both District 1 tributes grip each other's shoulders, waving as the crowd cheers their names.

" _Wow wow wow,_ Luana is looking like a hot tamale! Not to mention Mister Barlow and all his handsomeness."

"You know what they say Chad- District 1- the District that keeps us bedazzled and bejeweled all year round!"

 _At that Seph has to actually laugh out loud. It's just so pathetic, wasting all that manpower on resources that only glamorize the Capitol and its shallow inhabitants. Such manpower can be directed elsewhere, such as towards green energy, or medically sewing the Avox's tongues back into their mouths to restore their voice and sense of taste. He narrows his eye at the medical implications that the savage practice left on the victims: having to be forced to eat food in a paste-like form for the rest of their lives is just downright cruel. And even then they can't taste it._

"District 2 of course with the nod to ancient times- Aliyah with her silk gown, belt and scarf adorned with bits of rock- while Merlyn has his body armor and olive branch crown with red skirt."

Both tributes of District 2 remain stoic, hands raised in the air as a motion of unity.

 _The Australian mutters a low series of Chinese, Japanese, and German cuss words at the sight. Such deranged and unstable individuals... and worst of all they force children no older than_ five _into such a harsh training program! Molding them into future serial killers, and then drafting those that didn't make the cut. It makes his stomach churn and he hisses through his teeth before he looks away from them at the others._

"District 3- Evara and Herrick, dressed as scientists with _"data vines"_ coursing through their lab coats of course. I didn't notice till now, but Herrick looks like a lower District dweller for sure!"

 _At least they were not like the Careers, he muses. But it's only temporarily that he is intrigued by their outfits, much against his will. He shifts his gaze to the other pair coming down the line._

"District 4 is coming in with their water god and goddess outfits- bikini for Skylar and trunks for Kite of course."

"Yes Marceline, their outfits looking as if they were _individually_ welded with fish scales or seashells of some sort. Kite looks devilishly handsome tonight, not to mention Skylar looking much different without her edgy reaping attire!"

 _Again Seph has to laugh. Focusing more on appearance and looks than overall abilities. Just like them. And he has to admit, it_ is _very pathetic. At least in the Confederation people are more about the person_ beneath _the appearance, rather than_ just _the appearance._

"Here's District 5 following with their wire gowns and suit. Without District 5, Panem will forever be in darkness of course! Look at Occo and Valentina waving and holding hands! They go together like a dog and a flea! Both look awfully nervous, but at least they're good sports about it all, and I like that!"

 _Seph frowns at that. But he has to admit, the Cappie does have a point. And that makes it such a target for the Australians to blow out using an EMP bomb should the need arise. Nothing can survive that. His musings are interrupted by the next pair._

"-Oop, oop, here comes District 6 with their porter uniforms of course! Our sleek hovercrafts and fancy automobiles hail from Detroit!"

"They don't call it the motor city for nothing Marceline. Orville seems to be a good sport, but Cveta seems out of it? She looks a little loopy."

"I dunno Chad. Word on the street is Cveta was behaving badly behind the scenes!"

"Ah! I understand, _ehehehe_."

 _Seph growls under his breath as District Six moves on by. "Dammit... At least America had its industry spread out, not just isolated!"_

"Next up, we have District 7! Landry and Tamir seem to be sporting lumberjack outfits this time around! They certainly look ready to rumble, as do most District 7 tributes. Here's hoping some of Celosia's mentoring rubs off on them."

"It looks like it certainly has so far Marceline! I mean, just look at how eager Tamir looks. Landry seems to be less eager than her male counterpart, but still partaking in the evening none the less!"

 _His eye drifts back to the screen as he snorts. "Always trying to gloat about their stupid waste of natural resources; and they don't even replant the trees! That is just greedy and gluttonous."_

"So following the lumberjacks is _District 8_ , showcasing the latest fashion trends of the mid century atomic age- a conservative suit, pocket square and all with a trilby hat for the gentlemen represented by James and a gingham halter dress for the ladies represented by Adele!"

"Their costumes seem to be patchwork, welded together by different fabrics, hmmm interesting!"

 _Again Seph snorts at the mentions of the appearances. But at least there's something that hints back to America's past..._

 _Wait._

 _He jolts upright. District Eight has always been a rebellious one. So maybe... they are hinting as to perhaps that America isn't as dead as he had feared. Maybe... there's still a chance after all!_

 _But it will take the right person, and right circumstances, for America to be reborn. He purses his lips as he watches._

"And then we have District 9 with an interesting native Indian design going on. Rianne with a skirt made out of wheat stalks and a brown bandeau with matching moccasin boots, Mentan with the same sort of getup and face painting to boot! Oh look, Chad, they're waving right at us! Hey guys! I feel so special!"

"A very nice and new design cue for District 9, I applaud the stylist for their originality!"

 _"Another hinting..." he mutters softly. "Or maybe not..."_

"And now we move on to District _te-yun!_ They look ready to gather up a posse and rustle up a cow or two! Cowboy and Cowgirl outfits for Joelle and Tybalt. Chad, don't you own a ranch out there!? Hey, and your daughter Harriet is the escort for ten!"

"Mhm, District 10 will always have a place in my heart. The people are extremely down to earth."

 _Seph rolls his eye, but from what he's seen and heard of during the Days of Remembrance of his youth, that does hold some truth._

"District 10s cousin, District 11 is looking absolutely amazing with their farmer outfits, you know, overalls with the sickle for Cian and the basket backpack for Marcia . . . they appear to be all white for some reason, I wonder why."

Chad shrugged. "Maybe the special effects will remedy this! Regardless, Cian is exactly what I expected him to be, like most young men hailing from the agricultural District, he's stoic, bulky and composed! Boys like him are always a sight to behold. Marcia seems to be having a little fun, waving to the younger spectators in the audience."

 _The Australian notes the white outfits and frowns. What's up with that? It's just so odd... and yet at the same time... is it hinting at defiance? He doesn't know. There's just so much that Panem does that throws the Australian Secret Intelligence Service's best minds for a loop. He brushes it aside and resumes watching._

"And last but not least, District 12. The crowd seems gentle this year! They seem to have gone with the traditional route. Lumina wears a halter dress and checkered apron with a woven basket, while Jai appears to be a . . . baker? Woah, hold _on there_ Jai! Lucky Lumina seems to have a hold on him, as Jai seems to be spooked out about something! I think he's babbling about " _not wanting to go back!" again._ That boy is something else. What's your opinion Chad?"

 _Now_ that _catches Seph's attention. He briefly pauses the image and zooms in on the boy's face with his optic. He ccan clearly see panic and fear on his features, and he doesn't want to be there. He is in the middle of trying to flee, and his eyes are wide in terror. He rewinds the video feed and listens to the announcer again. "'Not wanting to go back!' again." He pauses it, his eye narrowing in thoughtfulness._

 _Something about that boy... it seems... off... Is it possible... he is, as Nina claims she has been, touched by someone? Like... the Lord? Or has he seen a vision? Or what is it? That he doesn't know, but something tells him that this boy has something going on with him. But what is it?_

 _This is a situation that can_ not _be counted out. He will have to keep an eye on this boy. And perhaps even sponsor him. He does have a connection to the Capitol still in place... He resumes playing the video in real time._

"Their outfits are an interesting pick! Although it has nothing to do with mining production, District 12 has a very distinct small town feeling to it if you have the . . . pleasure to visit! It's a very traditional place, where everyone knows their neighbor. I wouldn't imagine anything else for a District of 130,000 people."

"You got that right Chad! I believe that wraps up the outfits for now. What are your overall thoughts Chad?"

"I really enjoy the differences between each District and Territory. I love how each of them have their own cultures and perceptions, it's what makes our nation truly unique!"

"You know what else makes them unique . . .?" piped up Joyceta.

"What's that kiddo?"

Joyceta pointed towards the main camera that follows the procession. As the anthem reaches its crescendo and the chariots near the city circle, each half of each Districts' partner clicks a button given to them.

The anthem intensifies as each chariot burst with special effects relating to their Districts profession.

For example, District 11's chariot and their outfits constantly shifted in colour and effect. Such as white and snow for winter and green and rain for spring- the four seasons. District 4 had bubbles, District 7 had leaves blowing, and District 6, 2 and Snow Island had sparks, District 9 had wheat blowing in the air so on and so forth.

The crowd roars with excitement, as spectators snap photos, wave flags and toss roses while chanting the names of their favourites.

"Now _THIS_ is what I enjoy, this is what separates each District from one another. The special effects _further empathize_ each profession distinctly while showcasing the important role that each citizen has to play in the running of our nation and _I LOVE IT_!" cheered Marceline as Chad chuckled and hollered along with the crowd.

 _The Australian growls to himself. "If only they weren't such a bunch of fools... America was_ way _better than them in many areas! Especially with spreading out industry to protect it!" he hisses. He clenches his fists together, but not too hard to prevent his left hand from being crushed under his own strength._

The anthem's final stanza blares as the tributes continue to wave as the horses trot into the circle. The crowd continued to cheer themselves ragged as the chariots form a semi circle in front of the podium in which the President will speak.

"What an evening! Please stand by for an address by His Excellency- President Kane, as he's due to speak in a couple of seconds."

 _"One Horn of Plenty for us all!"_ the anthem comes to a close as the President settled into the podium. Dressed in a navy blue overcoat with black accents, he waves a gentle hand over the presiding crowd. As he waves, the cheers are muted in anticipation.

"Ladies and gentlemen, welcome to the 95th Annual Hunger Games." The crowd let out a cheer.

"Who could forget our guests to the Capitol this year!?" the crowd let out another roar as the President gestured to the tributes below.

Marceline pretended to listen as President Kane spoke about the history of the Hunger Games and what it took for a tribute to overcome among other things. As soon as he mentioned _"We're coming upon one hundred years of Hunger Games "_ the crowd booed, remembering Kane's vow to end them. The audio was quickly shut off.

 _Seph frowns at that. "Censoring..." he mutters. "Trying to keep people in the dark. Makes me sick."_

"Tributes," President Kane bellows, to the roar of the audience. He proceeds to name off each and every tribute reaped this year. The screen would flicker to the face of each tribute as Kane would nod curtly to them, while the tributes who aren't totally perplexed would return the gesture.

"- Lumina Reiss and Jai Matisse, we thank you for your courage and sacrifice. We wish you a happy Hunger Games- and may the odds be ever on your fa _vuh_!"

The camera reverts back to Marceline, Chad and the 94th Co-Victors.

"Well, I believe that concludes our coverage of the opening ceremonies! As you know, I'm Marceline Devereaux!"

"And I'm Chad Blakely alongside Joyceta Rodriguez and Franciso Noriega!"

"And we wish you a good evening! You may now resume your regular scheduled programming."

 _Seph shuts down the TV and gazes at its blank screen, his mind already racing with implications. He knows which boy he wants to win, but will the risks be worth the reward? He isn't sure. And the thought of even_ sponsoring _a future serial killer makes him sick to his stomach. He grimaces and shakes his head. No. There is no way he's going to have_ that _scandal be on his political and military career. He's an honest man, and he will do as he sees fit to make sure the boy can win._ Without _resorting to a dirty and dark trick like that._

 _At least directly._

 _He gets on the line shortly after._

 _"_ Authorization in progress.

 _"_ Identity confirmation required. _"_

 _The computerized male voice always gives Seph the willies, but at least it's better than that monotone voice used in the past. He clears his throat. "Identification code: Alpha-Zero-Five-Beta-Unicorn."_

 _"_ Code confirmed. Repeat to connect to source. _"_

 _"Alpha-Zero-Five-Beta-Unicorn."_

 _"_ Connected. Awaiting response code. _"_

 _The beeping on the other end is not just for show, either. The beeping is in reality a highly advanced cryptographic system that scrambles all signals from outside the country and disguises it as normal background noise when connecting to Panem's internet services. The encryption is almost impossible to break due to the use of the quantum supercomputers to generate it. And that makes it difficult for Panem to breach, if they even know it exists._

 _He waits and taps his finger on the desk._

 _Five minutes turn into twenty, and then he hears it._

 _"_ Confirmation response: Omega-Nine-Four-Gamma-Banshee. _"_

 _A smile crosses Seph's face as the ID pops up on the monitor of his phone. "Vernon. It's been ages."_

 _"_ Yes, but more like months. I have had to lay low for a while. I'm sure you are aware of the situation? _" Vitus "Vernon" Nordstrom asks._

 _Seph nods. "Yeah. Our spies got compromised. I know about that. The report just came in. How are you faring?"_

 _"_ My loyalty is being tested by this even as we speak. I do not wish to remain here any longer than I have to, _" Vitus says worriedly. His eyes take on a worried glint. "_ I don't want to become an Avox... _"_

 _"Right. Well, we'll do everything we can to extract you before they catch on," Seph assures the man. "Anyway, I have a situation that I need taken care of, and I don't want this to be on my record. At least publicly, given how my honesty is what got me elected to this position to begin with." He proceeded to lay out his plan to Vitus and the Panemian spy frowned._

 _"_ You wish for me to sponsor the youth from Twelve? That boy? _" he asks._

 _Seph nods. "Yes. You are in a position that allows you to, and as such, it will possibly draw in their attention. But what I want to know is why he kept saying that he won't go back again. Since you work in the Games department there, you no doubt have access to the tributes' files. I need that information so I know who I'm dealing with," he explains. "Also, if possible, get him the best equipment to stay alive with, even if it means giving him a damn bloody grenade. But do not send it unless called for. I don't want our other spy ops compromised."_

 _"_ I can't guarantee that, _" Vitus says softly. He huddles over his phone as a "Peacekeeper" (Soldier, not Peacekeeper, he reminds himself) walks by, rifle held at the ready across his chest. "_ It is a big risk to even give the tributes those kinds of weapons! It's practically illegal! I could get in trouble! _"_

 _"True, but isn't that why you wanted to become a spy for us anyway?" Seph asks as he leans forward. "So you could allow people to follow their own lifestyles?"_

 _"_ Yes, but... _" Vitus cuts off briefly as he ducks into a nearby Capitol shopping mall, and he sighs before walking and seeming to be a normal shopper. "_ But not like this. Every day I get fearful someone may spill the beans like they did in the muttation design and intelligence departments. I... I hate to say it, but from what people are saying in the higher echelons, and from what the Post said, it's like you haven't been paying much attention to current events. _"_

 _Seph frowns at that. "So things are different than they appear to be..." he muses. "I wonder if the whistleblower did that on purpose..."_

 _"_ We don't know yet, but... We may be able to get some up-to-date information out, _" Vitus whispers. "_ And then you may be able to work more effectively to get Panem to back off from your country's territory. _"_

 _"Get it, and we'll try to get you and your family out of that hellhole," Seph says. "I'll contact you as soon as we have a plan in place. Just do not screw this one up, Vernon. It's your only chance, and perhaps ours as well."_

 _"_ Yes. But we also can sponsor another tribute as well, if you'll allow it. _" Vitus is a good man, Seph knows, but he is also still a Capitolite. So he has to be careful with what he says and does. At least until he gets the man's wife and two sons and daughter out. Vitus is also scared, not just for himself, but also for his family in the Districts. That's why he volunteered his services as a spy to the Confederation once the Second Revolution failed._

 _"All right. But probably go with one of the tributes from Eight. That District always has some rebellion going on somehow."_

 _Vitus nods and then he salutes, not in Panemian style, but in good ol' American military style, rather quickly. He then cuts the line and the screen goes blank._

 ** _End Flashback_**

Seph lifts his gaze from the report he's currently perusing while waiting for the base commander and his eye hardens into an emerald as the door slides open.

An aide steps out and waves him in. "She's expecting you."

The President puts the report away in his briefcase before standing and heading in.

The woman in charge of Coober Pedy Missile Base is a formidable person, he knows, having worked with her in the past as a soldier. While she is the same age as he is, she's in no way a relation or a lover. In fact, she's his former superior; only now _he_ is _her_ superior.

General Reshmi Jain is in her fifties, and she stands at an imposing six foot one, a tall height for a woman. Her hair is a bright red, with a streak of grey down the middle. Her eyes are a sharp, and rather startling, yellow color while her skin is a deep brown. She wears her uniform crisp and clean, pressed each time, and she walks with a poise and purpose that only a Capitolite has, but it's far from it; that kind of poise and purpose comes from a drive she wishes to see through to the end. Whereas Seph is more honest and straightforward, Jain is rather cunning and manipulative, a trait that earned her several enemies, but at the same time propelled her to the height of her career. Seph just worked hard to get to where he is.

She turns to face him from behind her desk. "Mr. President." Her tone is clipped and very official, just as he remembers it.

"General." Out of sheer instinct he salutes her, and a wry smirk creeps over her features.

"Still the same as always, Matthews," she says, leaning forward. "And I take that this visit is anything but formal, nor is it for a review of the missiles, is it?"

"Hardly," Seph says as he drops the salute. "I'm here to brief you on an operation I've got planned to showcase our power should the need arise."

Jain frowns. "So you say. What operation?" she asks, tenting her fingers.

"It's simple: should Panem start to flex their power, I'm giving you permission to chuck one their way." Seph's eye is hard as his optic flashes. "But... the warheads have to be inert. In other words, training dummies. We are not to engage in direct nuclear warfare unless they launch one our way and deliver damage to us."

That gets the general. Her lips curl upward. "So, a show of strength, right, sir?"

The President nods. "Yes. To show we have the ability to deliver a nuclear warhead rather than just bluffing. They did say they didn't think we had such warheads or ICBMs last time we met in person."

Jain is silent for a moment. "I see. And you feel it will give them something to think about, right?"

Seph nods, his eye flicking to the monitor showing one of the ICBMs undergoing maintenance. "Yes. But we can't risk war. Not until we have a better advantage."

 _And until we have more Gundams and Mobile Suits..._ he mentally adds.

"So, what's this operation called?" Jain asks. Her eyes study him critically and Seph smirks.

"Operation: Might. That's it. Simple, straight to the point, and it also indicates what we mean this time. No more hiding behind obscure names for this one," he tells her.

The female officer's lips curl into a grin. "That's something I've been expecting to hear for years now. A show that we do have bloody missiles." Then she frowns. "But I don't like the use of inert warheads."

"Better than using a live one," Seph retorts. "And remember, I'm in charge now. So if you dare to go against that order..."

Jain snorts. "Fine. I'll do it."

Seph nods. "Good. Stand by for when the order is needed."

* * *

 **Location: Disaster Site**

 **Time: 0900 hours**

The entire area is a complete mess.

Zero purses his lips as he takes in the sight with military precision.

In front of him is a massive oil spill. It's originating from five different rigs, two of which are on fire, and three others are halfway destroyed, leaking more oil out further away. He guesses that maybe the wells haven't been fully tapped or someone struggled to stop the destructive leaks. The second option seems more plausible than the first though; he just isn't sure why.

The general pulls his head into the helicopter as it circles the area, the 1st Restoration Division and 2nd Damage Control Group using two commandeered supply ships as their bases. With them is a single ship with a set of containers on its deck and sides. These containers hold the nanobuilder solution that is used to disassemble the oil slick down to the basic molecules. And two of them are even used as reassembly units for reconstructing the trees that are cut down.

While normally something that exists in science fiction, the nanobuilders not only can create synthetic wood, but can also reconstruct the real deal. It's literally like a micro-sized factory in one container. And with the advances in technology made in the last one hundred thirty nine years, the nanobuilders can be programmed to create just about anything from raw minerals, save for complex organisms like birds, apes, and crocodiles. The nanobuilders are a lot like the replicator technology from the old TV series _Star Trek_ , but more efficient.

"You blokes getting this?" he asks seriously.

"We sure are, sir," one of the members with him replies as she holds up her camera. "It's a bad situation all right. Spill extends out about five miles and is still growing. It's gonna take a long time to disassemble that thing."

"And the rigs?" Zero's eyes are hard as he examines them.

"From what we can see, the rigs are in good shape. Well, six are, anyway. Two are total losses and will have to be broken down. The nanobuilders will be able to handle that as well." Her eyes dart over to the three partially destroyed rigs. "The three that are partially destroyed we can salvage. The other three are intact except for the piping used for transporting the sludge."

"Hmm... Can we fix that?" the general asks.

One of the technicians glances up from his work, his green eyes weary. "Well, the nanobuilders could use some of the iron in the oil to repair the pipes, and the carbon can be used to reinforce it." He types a few commands on the keyboard of his laptop, which in turn beams the signals back to the nanobuilders in the containers. "But it's very risky."

"Then do it. And also make sure that the carbon we extract is put to use in the reassembly units for reconstructing the trees. Also, have the guys in the Restoration Division to do some chemical analysis of the soil in PNG. We may need to figure out how to redress the balance to allow the trees to grow," Zero orders.

"Will do, sir!" the techie replies.

He shifts before he got on the line and Zero turns his gaze back to the rigs. "Well... here comes the tough part..." he mutters under his breath.

* * *

 **Okay, peeps! Here's chapter four! :) It looks like things are starting to heat up for the Hunger Games. What is Seph planning? Be sure to stay tuned everyone! Till next time! :)**

 **Ja ne! :)**


	6. Never Surrender

The farm is always busy.

That much is certain.

He stands atop its bridge, his eyes fixed on the horizon. While he can't see beyond the horizon, he somehow knows that Panemian naval ships are lurking out there.

They are always close by.

His eyes are hard as he grasps the military-spec binoculars around his neck and raises them up to his eyes. Now he can see them.

They are just beyond the range of his vision with the binoculars, but he can make them out, even if barely. His teeth grit as he clenches the binoculars in his hands, and behind him he can hear his dogs barking.

Three Panemian _Poseidon_ -class destroyers are close to Australian territorial waters. Their sleek, angular shapes are a dead giveaway.

The farmer lowers the binoculars and turns to look at the radar array. He walks to the edge and peers down into the bridge. "Radar? Got anything?" he asks.

The woman nods. "Yes. Three _Poseidon_ -class destroyers patrolling just outside the twelve mile zone. They're testing us, as usual."

The farmer snorts. "Damn them. Always trying to take our resources..." He snarls as he remembers the last incursion that left one of the floating farms badly damaged, and its crops burnt. This is one of the risks to having such farms, but how else are they supposed to feed their larger population in the wake of the Apocalypse?

"How long before they try another incursion?" he asks.

The radar operator shrugs helplessly. "I honestly have no clue. Although I suspect it may happen within two days' time at best..."

* * *

 **(** _The scene shows a small flame before darkness snuffs it out. But a small ember burns..._ **)**

 **Hikari ga tsudzuku... ! (** _The ember is blown away, becoming one of many as the sun begins to rise beyond a war-torn town._ **)**

 **Hikari ga tsudzuku...** **! (** _The light from the sun overcomes the camera and it fills the screen before fading to show the skyline of Sydney and the name of the series._ **)**

 **Yami ga sono tochi o shuchō suru kamo shirenai (** _The image flares before it shows two people trapped in a ruined structure in what was once Shanghai. They are both shaking and are wounded from shrapnel._ **)**

 **Shikashi, kibō wa enjo no te o kasu (** _A pair of explosions rocks the area and they huddle and whimper before someone lifts the debris off the two of them. It is a group of Australian soldiers._ **)**

 **Sekai ga kawaru to (** _The soldiers help the two children to their feet before one of them grabs a grenade and throws it at some bandits coming to pillage. The grenade explodes before the debris falls away, exposing the ruins of Europe, Marshal Sergei Kudryavtsev's image over the continent, King Lawrence III opposing him over Europe as well._ **)**

 **Furui risō wa moe tsudzukeru (** _The scene is engulfed in a bright flash as it shows Korean soldiers storming through city ruins in what was once Seoul, South Korea, carrying Panemian weaponry as rebels fight back desperately. Above them is Ahn Sun Pok, her face twisted into a sneer as she holds her hands upwards, as if mocking the world's helplessness. Behind her is the Panemian Vice President while President Kane is off to the side, gazing at the sky._ **)**

 **Kieru hikarinonakade (** _With a wave of her hand, she commands the forces to open fire on rebel positions. Missiles rain down, the black smoke engulfing the area before it is blown aside by a hoverplane._ **)**

 **Kurayami ga hirogaru ni tsurete (** _The hoverplane is painted in Arabian colors, and on top of the imposing palace is Muthasim V, the sultan. He looks back as it fades to a map, showing the Egyptian Union breaking away from them. But then it shows the country turning a bluish green as it fades to show a new figure in the shadows._ **)**

 **Watashitachi no kibō wa tsudzukudeshou (** _The figure holds up its right arm before it lunges out, coming into the light to reveal Seph Matthews as he swings his beam saber mounted onto his right arm, cutting through a bandit before spinning and cleaving another's gun in two, following up with a left hook leaving him dazed. He turns, his left optics lens flaring red as it engulfs the screen._ **)**

 **Watashitachi ga mada ikite iru kagiri (** _The light fades to show three other members, all of them gathered around in front of the Meldney Complex. To the left is Japanese Empress Yuki Minaguma. To the right is Filipino President Gueo Largina. And in the middle is Taiwanese President Chae Yang Un. Behind them the flag of the Australian Confederation flutters before the camera zooms in on it, only for it to fall away._ **)**

 **Un, hikari ga tsudzuku! (** _The image of Sydney is revealed, above it Seph and his fellow leaders side by side with the sun behind them, the Australian Confederation flag above them all as the series name appears below them._ **)**

* * *

 **Chapter 5: Never Surrender**

 **Location: Honolulu Farms, Australian Territorial Waters - Australia**

 **Time: 1100 hours**

 **Date: Friday, 12 May, 139 AF (2158 AD)**

Captain Takahiro Mizushima grits his teeth as he paces atop the bridge of the floating farm barge, Honolulu Farms, one of many floating farms built to help feed their current population. But in doing so, they are also putting their population at risk for starvation because if pirates or even worse, Panem, got their hands on them, it would mean the demise of most of their people. And that is why the barges are listed as cities or counties, seeing as how some of them are like floating cities and counties in their own right due to their sheer size.

The barge he is in command of is one of those that could be classified as a county because of its sheer size.

The outer edges are lined with barracks and structures used to house the equipment to fertilize the crops, as well as packing facilities and the storage for the packed goods. The entire interior section is devoted to growing the crops, and as per the Floating Farm Regulations Act, the crops have to be rotated so as to not dry up the soil used for growing them. Some farms are devoted to livestock as well, so as to have a steady source of meat to also help supply the population. The farms are just one of many innovations to allow the entire Confederation to become self sufficient, and for good reason, as most nations are all about grabbing resources in this day and age, with no concern for the welfare of the planet.

The farms are always at risk for pirate attacks and Panemian incursions, but it is also risky because of the monsoon season and tropical cyclones. Thankfully the farms are built with this in mind, but sometimes events do happen. The most recent tropical cyclone nearly sank the O'Hare Farmers' Union barge; only the pumps kept it from sinking entirely. After the cyclone passed, it took weeks to remove the water and salvage the crops. One farm barge actually did sink back in 0039 AF; but that led to better construction for the current barges in use.

The captain is forced from his thoughts by the sudden blaring of the alarm for lunch break. He turns back to the scene of the workers as they hurry inside to escape the heat. He reaches up with a hand and wipes the sweat off his forehead before removing his cap and running a hand through his greying purple hair. His brown eyes glimmer as he turns and makes his way to the ladder leading down to the barge itself. He replaces his cap and descends the ladder before heading into the air conditioned bridge.

"Lunch break?" the radar operator, his wife Kimiko Mizushima, asks with a joking grin.

Takahiro smirks. "Of course." He wanders over to the fridge and opens it up, pulling out a pair of lunch boxes and set them down on the table in the middle of the bridge; the bridge also doubles as their home, as it has a fully working bathroom, kitchen, an office, and a bedroom for themselves. The two dogs they own run into the room, barking and Takahiro holds up his hands. "Whoa! Settle down!" he laughs as the two fox terriers dance about.

"Let me guess; they need some activity, right?" Kimiko asks as she grabs her lunch box and opens it.

"Hardly. I took them for a walk around the barge this morning!" her husband remarks as he runs a hand through his hair.

"Well, then that's good." Kimiko sighs, her eyes taking on a distant look. Her husband knows what that look represents and he sits down beside her.

"If you're worried about Panem, then they'll have to tangle with the submarines to get to us," he tells her.

"It's not just that I'm worried about..." she whispers, looking at the sandwich held in her hands. "It's those damn Games. What'll happen when they end? Will there be a third war? And if so... can we do anything about it?".

Takahiro is silent as he ponders this. While it is common knowledge that hardliners in Panem want the Games to continue, it is also common knowledge amongst the Confederation leadership that there are those who fought against such barbaric practices and rituals harking back to the Roman Empire. The resistance though is not as widespread as it had been prior to the Second Revolution.

"Honestly, Kim, I have no answer. Remember, we're just in charge of the farm here," he says. "But if anything, maybe the President has plans or something."

Kimiko sighs. "I just... how can we be the only ones to hold onto our ideals alongside Britain when all others are being taken over by that damn nation?" she asks. "As it stands, the only real way we can win against them is to overthrow their "allies" and reclaim them. But their navy... it's just too big..."

Takahiro nods, his eyes grave. "Well... we'll just have to sink them then. Somehow..."

Both sit there in silence for a moment before a loud klaxon begins to wail.

"Oh, bloody shit!" he blurts, scrambling to his feet and dumping his lunch on the table. He runs to the radar, and he slams his fists on it. "Crikey! They're doing it again!"

That gets his wife. She runs over, and her eyes widen. "Again?!"

The farm barge captain grits his teeth as he runs over to the radio receiver, his hand flying for it and pulling it off before he even comes to a stop. He dials in the frequency for the submarine closest to the barge; as per the Floating Farm Regulations Act, all farms have to be in constant contact with submarines patrolling their borders. The submarines are assigned to a farm barge and are permitted to dock for allowing the sailors leave time. It isn't uncommon to see submarines lingering close to the barges every so often; it also acts as a boon to the submariners when it comes to getting fresh meals every now and then.

He only hopes the captain is listening.

"USS _Abbey,_ this is Honolulu Farms! Do you read me?"

" _Affirmative, Farms. We read you loud and clear,_ " the voice of Captain Guanyu Li responds.

"We have several hostiles coming into range of territorial waters!" Takahiro shouts. "Three _Poseidon_ -class! Armed to the teeth. Suspected incursion imminent!"

Those last three words are enough for the captain. Her voice is hard as she gets back to him. " _Understood. We'll drive them back._ "

"Good luck, and Godspeed!" the barge captain says.

The line goes dead and his wife joins him as they look out at the waters, as if seeing their imminent doom. The fate of their safety now rests on the submarines guarding their very livelihood.

* * *

 **Location: USS _Abbey_ SSBN-745, edge of Australian territorial waters**

 **Depth: 1200 m**

 **Time: 1200 hours**

Captain Guanyu Li narrows her deep red eyes as she runs a hand through her shocking yellow hair. The forty-five year old submarine skipper is not a big fan of the recent spike in Panemian incursions into Australian territorial waters, and the stripping of an entire country's resources is enough to make her blood boil in anger. She shifts in her seat as she peers at the radar mounted to the left arm of her chair. The screen shows the three Panemian naval ships incoming towards the large spots that indicate the location of the barges.

A scowl crosses her features and she grips the arm rests in her hands, feeling the metal digging into her palms. She glances at the men and women around her, waiting for their orders. All have their gazes fixed on her, and she feels a bit of satisfaction from this. Her crew is well trained, everything they know drilled into them through countless hours of simulations and test runs of their weapons. The _Abbey_ is one of the best in the entire Confederation naval force, and she takes pride in it. She is a woman of discipline, but she knows the value of free thinking, and allows her crew to speak their minds, sometimes offering up new tactics to carry out so long as they remain within mission parameters.

"Helm, increase speed to twenty knots, and come about zero-five-one. Ascend to depth one triple zero."

"Aye!" the helmsman grips the controls and angles the sub upward while coming about. The submarine begins to hum with the immense power of her fusion reactor, sending it directly into the shaft and driving her propeller. The vessel's sleek shape continues to slip through the ocean, looking more like a phantom than an actual submarine.

Above her, Li knows that the three Panemian ships are coming closer. No doubt they'll be hunting for any possible attackers, she muses with a smirk. The _Abbey_ is not a typical boomer, that's for sure. She's one of a new breed, designed solely for launching attacks from stealth, as the missiles now have the ability to launch from deeper beneath the waves than their original design indicate. The specs of the sub are classified, but she is known to the public as one of the new _Spectre_ -class ballistic missile submarines. And Li takes great pride in the fact that her boat lives up to her name. The fusion reactor helps with that, that's for sure.

"We got the Pannie ships incoming," the radar officer says as he glances back over his shoulder. "Ten hundred meters out and closing rapidly."

Li nods, keeping her gaze locked on the radar. "Excellent. When they come closer, ascend and we'll pop a few torps their way, but off to the left so they'll miss."

"Frightening them is one thing, but don't you worry we may hit one of them on accident and prompt a new war?" the officer asks. "No offense to question your orders, ma'am," he adds hastily, fearing her wrath.

Taking her gaze off the radar, Li smiles at him instead. "No. It's good to question something if you're concerned about it. But do not dwell on it for it may cloud your judgment." Then she becomes serious. "I have faith that they'll miss. We always have done this, so why stop now?"

The officer's face floods with relief, but that does little to reassure him. Being in a tense situation always gets him nervous. "Understood, ma'am."

She turns to the helmsman. "Helm, ascend until we're at zero five hundred."

"Yes, ma'am!" He angles the sub a bit higher, and she watches the depth gauge mounted to the right of the radar monitor.

The captain's eyes harden as the gauge ticks closer and closer to the destination depth.

"Wepps, I need a few torps prepped for popping," she says.

"Aye, ma'am! Loading tubes one and two now, flooding shortly!" the woman says as she keys in the commands.

Within the front of the submarine, both torpedo tubes flood with water, and two torpedoes are slipped inside via the launching system.

"Torps ready, ma'am!" Wepps reports.

"Good," Li muses. "Wait for it now. We have to make sure that we miss them, but detonate close enough to give them a message."

"How close we talking?" another officer asks.

Li smirks. "Just fifty off their bow."

"That's..." Wepps' eyes widen as she grasps what's happening. "That's twenty meters shorter than last time!" she murmurs softly in shock.

The captain nods. "Yes. Best to give them a message that they can comprehend."

While Li is not a big risk taker, she's known for pushing the limits by toeing the line between warnings and unofficial declarations of war. This is the closest she has ever toed the line before. And perhaps the one that's finally making her nervous. What if they _do_ miss, and sink one of the ships, inadvertently drawing the Confederation into war with Panem? What would the President do, and how would the people and politicians react.

She feels her heart rate increase and she bites her lower lip as her men and women make ready to launch the torps. The inside of the submarine seems to fill with tension, and she can practically sense it in the atmosphere. It's everywhere, and she can see the way her crew is tense and poised for the confirmation of war, or a successful warning shot.

The Panemian naval ships are crawling closer and she feels a smirk cross her face, despite the tension in the air.

"Play time!" she mutters to herself.

* * *

 **Location: Panemian Naval Ship PNS _Varinius_**

 **Time: 1200 hours**

 **Date: Friday, 12 May, 95 ADD (2158 AD)**

Captain Aelianus Como runs a hand through his brownish blonde hair, his grey eyes hard as he spots the incoming barges. A smirk crosses his face. Those fools think they could keep their precious food safe by planting and harvesting it out at sea, do they? Well they are wrong on so many counts. And he is not about to let this go.

While he's not a fan of stripping entire lands, Panem does need the resources. He keeps those sentiments to himself though, fearing the worst for his family back home in District Four. His only wish is to see Panem take lessons from this self-sufficient alliance, and not have to destroy the planet for it. His grandparents and parents though, have squashed all those thoughts out of him in an effort to keep him conformed to Panemian society. But they linger. And yet... in some way, his indoctrination is at war with those thoughts.

It makes it difficult to know who he is as a result. Only recently has he uncovered a couple of forbidden tomes of knowledge and literature long forgotten and banned by the current government, and as a result, his eyes are now open to a world he never knew existed, and knowledge long sealed away. But why? Why hide this kind of knowledge? What does the government not want them to know?

What is it that makes them so unwilling to let this stuff become public knowledge? He had never even heard of any of these places until he joined the navy. And while his indoctrination tells him to view them as insects, if previous encounters are to be believed, some part of him actually has nothing but deep respect for the Australian Confederation. A respect that is completely forbidden. A respect for their determination to remain true to those ideals of... freedom and, dare he say it, belief in God?

While he is taught to believe only in Panem and not some so-called deity, he can't help but wonder if there is something to the churches he has seen as a child. He has never heard much about God, but in a way, he's drawn to this "make believe" deity. Aelianus is not one to say his real thoughts, though he does think them to himself in his mind, which is his only refuge from the ever present eyes and ears of Panem. He briefly recalls one of those tomes hidden away in his home back in Four. It reminds him briefly of the book, with the dusty and faded words _Nineteen-Eighty-Four_ , and he shudders. Panem is in a way similar, but different.

And yet here is an alliance who dares to say no, that the world can become a different place.

His musings are interrupted by the call from Vice-Admiral Glamoure Hansson. He draws himself from his thoughts and puts on a mask of hatred, standing erect and tall as his training dictated.

The screen lights up and the Admiral's face appears. " _Captain Como, are you in range yet?_ " she asks.

"Yes, ma'am," he says in a calm voice. "Those idiotic insects won't know what-"

He's cut off when a loud klaxon begins to blare.

"What is it?" he demands, trying to force as much hatred into his voice as he can.

"Sir, we have incoming torpedoes!" the sonar operator yells. "Three of them closing fast at fifty knots!"

"Get a direction on them and find out where they came from!" he barks.

" _Seems like those blasted insects think they can be a dog,_ " Hansson says with a sneer.

"Yes, ma'am. But I will make sure they have something to think about!" Como hisses.

The Admiral's image nods. " _Good. I expect a report of success when you're done._ " With that, she cuts the line, and he turns to face the radar and sonar operators. "Keep an eye on those torps and launch countermeasures! Give them a full broadside!"

The ship's helmsman reacts on instinct, swinging the ship around as its three five inchers and its plasma weapons come online. The guns all roar as one, sending the rounds and shots right for the torpedoes. They strike the water, and the noise produced causes the torps to go off course and explode, but what they do _not_ expect is a _second_ wave coming in fast. And yet the homing projectiles don't hit the ships as they speed right past, and detonate further away, but the impact of the shockwave is enough to rock the ships and cause damage to their bows, flooding their magazines.

Como yelps as the shockwave rocks his ship, sending people and things scattering. He staggers to try and keep upright, as his training mandates. And yet some human instinct is telling him of danger, so he brushes his training aside and finally manages to right himself by using the console closest to him as an anchor. He manages to get to his feet and looks around, klaxons blaring in his hearing. The ship is mostly intact, but as the damage control readouts show, the magazines are flooded and he grits his teeth. Clearly the Australians are not fooling around. This is the closest they have come to actually sinking the Panemian ships.

His eyes are hard as he looks to the radar and sonar, and he frowns. _So... they knew we were coming and had a group of submarines close by..._ he thinks. _Clever. They're much smarter than our so-called leaders think. They don't want to risk a war, and yet they're still willing to use force in self-defense. A smart move in my opinion._

A snort escapes him as he feels the ship right itself, despite the klaxons blaring. _As if my opinion even matters in this so-called society of ours._

He looks around as his men and women start to go through battle protocol.

How is it that the Australians are so resistant to the new _old_ world order? What is it?

He has no way of knowing that it's due to the events of immigration and civil rights movements that led to the country's newfound, and enhanced, respect for what Panem has long since forgotten. His eyes shoot up as he hears something akin to jet engines flying past and he looks out the window of the bridge just in time to see an aircraft carrier coming in, and his eyes widen as he recognizes it from the briefing he received just hours ago.

And with it is that...whatever it is.

The Australian carrier's flag waves defiantly in the midday breeze, as if to say "screw you" to Panem's leaders.

Aelianus is not shocked to see the planes launch, but he dreads what's coming next.

* * *

 **Location: USS _Enterprise -_ CVN-80, Australian territorial waters**

 **Time: 1245 hours**

The last thing he expects is to get the call to scramble during his lunch break.

But considering the circumstances, he doesn't blame them.

Especially since the farms are at stake here.

Lieutenant Ryo Maeda shifts in the cockpit of his machine, his grey eyes hard as he scans over the readouts, his pilot helmet placed within his lap as his hands fly over the controls. Years of practice and training are well worth the effort, he thinks as he finally leans back and runs his hand through his thick blue hair. He grasps the helmet and puts it on his head, the seal clicking shut and air being purged from the seals. He presses the side and the tinted visor slides down to protect his face, not just from the harsh UV of the sun, but also burns and explosive decompression should his machine get shot down. His pilot suit is one of the very latest, a unique model designed for this particular craft he's piloting.

His gloved hands grasp the controls as he waits for the launch order.

The shooter gets on the air. " _Headwind's good. Steam pressure's good._ "

The pilot gives the thumbs up before flipping the armored canopy shut. As soon as it clicks, he braces for the acceleration.

He's immediately pushed back into his seat not even fifteen seconds later. He presses the controls forward and the engines of his craft roar, and he spins around in a barrel roll before joining the second of his flight.

" _Eagle Flight, you are cleared for engagement,_ " the air commander says. " _Just remember to give them a show. Do not sink them. Their bows have been compromised already by the submarines._ "

"Understood, sir," Ryo replies. He grips the controls as he glances at the monitors showing the outside world. He can see the three ships struggling to remain upright and he feels a smirk crossing his lips as he speeds past, allowing them to see his aircraft.

He just gets a glimpse of one of the Panemians as he watches them, with something akin to awe on his face. Ryo can't help but grin. This is just too good. And this is actually a dream come true for him. He spins his plane around before speeding upwards, his hand flicking the control switch for the transformation.

And the ACSW-X109 Eagle Gundam transforms for the second time that week.

He feels the cockpit reorienting itself so it's right within the center of his machine's torso, and he can see the configuration altering to its humanoid form. The Gundam's transformation screen flashes once it's in its true form, and he grips the controls, splaying out the arms and legs in a menacing formation as the wings flare.

" _Eagle Flight, clear!_ " his wingman says.

Ryo's eyes glint as he hunches over in his seat, his face split with a wide grin. "Okay! Lieutenant Ryo Maeda, Eagle Gundam! Engaging!"

He guns it and the machine's thrusters flare. He draws out the glowing blue beam saber, ready to attack. But remembering his superior's words, he only wants to get them to fire their missiles at him. And not a moment too soon, the destroyers fire off a slew of missiles at him. Whipping his beam saber around, he cuts through two of them before he jets to the right and slams his machine's elbow into another before speeding away as the projectile explodes.

Around him he can sense the power of the nuclear fusion reactor flowing through the systems and circuits, and he revels in it. This is the way to fight! No longer will the Confederation be restrained and limited in terms of their ship numbers. With a few of these machines, they can deal massive damage to Panem's naval forces for little more than a loss of one of their own ships. But he also knows that eventually Panem will get wise and start to develop their own mecha if too much is revealed. So he's under strict orders to not even use any of the weapons aside from the beam saber and missiles.

Ryo forces the thoughts from his mind though as he draws back his saber and slashes through a fourth and fifth missile, causing both to explode prematurely. He whips his machine's legs around using the AMBAC system and a fine touch on the controls, kicking a missile in half, both parts exploding in midair.

He spots one of the Panemian ships trying to slink away, and he narrows his eyes as he flips through the channels, finally zeroing on the frequency used by Panem's fleets.

"... _shoot that thing down?!_ " the captain is screaming at someone.

" _We're trying, Harrick, but the damn thing is just too fast!_ " the second captain barks. " _As it stands, we'll all be in trouble if we let these insects get the better of us!_ "

" _How can they be called_ insects _if they're much cleverer than even our esteemed leaders anticipated, Florianus?!_ " the third captain in the group remarks, catching Ryo off guard. His eyes widen beneath his helmet's visor in mild surprise. _Okay. This is new,_ he thinks.

" _Aelianus, are you saying you actually think_ they _can win against us? That is paramount to treason!_ " the first captain, Harrick, snaps.

" _I'm only stating the facts. These so-called insects have managed to develop a weapon that outclasses us, even with our superior technology and numbers. Look at it. It's faster, more maneuverable, and if that demonstration was of any indication, it's clear that it's able to intercept missiles and take them out,_ " this Aelianus says. " _And we don't know if it has any other weapons._ "

The other two captains are silent as he listens in, keeping silent. No need to inform them of his presence, right?

" _Harrick,_ _I am only looking out for the fleet's best interests,_ " Aelianus remarks. " _I strongly advise we withdraw to further consolidate our assets and repair our ships. We can make another move later on this month._

Ryo brings his machine to a hover, watching the three ships with interest. This is odd. Why would one of the captains be insisting that... His eyes widen as he suddenly gasps to himself. The way he worded those statements... the first one is clearly a question directed at trying to get the others to drop that thinking. And the report on the facts of his machine, or what little they knew of it anyway, have some small hints of a free thinker in there.

Is it possible this man, this Aelianus, is not as indoctrinated as his fellow captains? If so... then maybe they can use his help!

But the thought is brushed from his mind as one of the other two captains resumes speaking.

" _Very well, Aelianus. We will retreat for now. But only because our ships have all been compromised in some way. Those damn fools just don't know when to quit!_ " Florianus hisses.

Ryo switches the channels back to the Confederation's frequency just as his superior calls in. " _Lieutenant Maeda, do you copy?_ "

"Yes, sir," he says, keying the mike. "But I think we have a bit of an interesting discovery."

" _You can fill me in once you've returned to the ship. Plus, I need to debrief you as well. We're being sent down to the rigs near PNG._ "

"Why there?" Ryo asks, his eyes narrowing a bit. "Seems like a waste to me."

" _Long story short, Panem may be attempting to go for another rig cluster close by, and there's a massive spill. The ERC is already on it, but they need cover in case those bloody wankers try anything._ "

The lieutenant sighs, rubbing his gloved hand down the visor of his helmet. "Okay. I'll be there shortly." He pivots his machine around in the air before transforming back into aircraft form and heading back to the ship.

* * *

 **Time: 1345 hours**

Commander Bảo Tran is not pleased with the news as he paces the briefing room.

Especially now.

He stands in front of the pilots, their eyes locked onto him as he finally stops and looks at all of them. He fixes his gaze on Lieutenant Maeda before tearing his eyes back to the others.

"I'm sure you all heard of the recent events in PNG, but for those of you who didn't watch the news, long story short is that Panem triggered one hell of a spill. They left it for us to clean up knowing we'd be busy for years. So the gist of it is that they intend to strike at the rigs closer to what was once Indonesia. Our goal: to be there to intercept it and drive them back." He looks at each of the men and women before he presses a button and the monitor across from all of them lights up, displaying the area in question. He grabs a nearby pointer and taps it against the monitor's screen. "Here is where the spill is." He moves the pointer over a small ways, stopping close by. "And here's their target."

Maeda raises a hand. "Um, sir, what exactly is our objective, aside from diverting the Panemian fleet?"

Tran purses his lips. "Our objective is to try and prevent them from triggering another spill _and_ prevent them from stealing any more resources from this area." He highlights Papua New Guinea, as well as the other territories annexed. "They want it, they'll have to _trade_ for it rather than just swiping them like common thieves."

His yellowish eyes narrow. "And to be honest, someone needs to give them a kicking to their asses over there," he growls.

"As if!" one of the fighter pilots shouts back. "We can't even get the damn blokes to stop stealing _our_ resources! Remember the last incursion? Three farm barges had _half_ their crops stolen!"

The commander nods, looking at the group. "But the issue here is not the fact that they need their asses kicked. The issue is the fact that they set up a spill and we need to prevent another one."

"Anything the spooks have to say about that?" a second pilot asks. Her visible blue eye is hard as she glanced at him, her black eye patch a contrast to her shocking silver hair.

Tran shifts his weight before he resumes speaking.

"The intelligence guys did say that Panem was going to try and attack the rigs in Indonesia. No doubt because of how much oil lies untapped there." His eyes harden into amber shards. "But we're going to stop them cold."

"What I don't get is why Panem is after our oil reserves. I mean, can't they just derive oil from algae like us?" Maeda asks. "It would save us a lot of time and effort."

"True, but those blokes there think the world is theirs to use as they see fit, just like a certain Nazi did back Before the Fall!" Tran shoots back. "So we have to prevent them from getting those reserves, no matter what!"

Maeda nods, but refrains from saying anything else. To him, the fact that the AC is entirely green contradicts their need for oil. But then again, they never do use it themselves, except for sometimes when their algae oil supplies run low, which is rare. If it were up to him, Panem could have the reserves so long as they _traded_ for it, and not stole it.

"Our orders are to also cover the ERC as they begin cleanup and restoration efforts," Tran continues. "As you know, Panem is also stealing trees and other resources without consideration for the environment, as Papua New Guinea demonstrated. So, our objective there is to cover the restoration of the forests for the region, and then for the next ten months to allow the soil to accept the newly rebuilt trees, provided it hasn't been contaminated by chemicals or whatever else they use."

"Any idea as to what they used?" the female fighter pilot asks.

Tran's eyes dart back over to her. "Lieutenant Silverstein, that is one thing we do not have any data on at the moment. But I fear they have used chemicals that made the soil toxic..." His voice trails off as she grasps the implications. Her blue eye widens before she shudders in her seat.

"So, we have to be prepared for whatever Panem throws our way. Regardless. Is that clear?" he asks.

Every pilot there nods and salutes. "Yes, sir!"

Tran glances back at Maeda. "And Maeda, be careful you don't go too crazy out there. Remember we only got one Gundam right now. So keep it from going too far, okay, mate?"

Maeda salutes once more. "Yes, sir!"

* * *

 **Location: Spill site**

 **Time: 1415 hours**

Zero is not pleased.

That's for sure.

His eyes are dark with anger as he watches his men and women start dispensing the nanobuilders across the spill using their helicopters. The silvery blue solution begins to eat away at the spill once it touches it. A few other helicopters are circling the two destroyed rigs, dropping nanobombs onto the structures. Already he can see that they are starting to be eaten away as well. But it will take time to fully dissolve and disassemble the rigs at the molecular level.

He glances at the smartwatch he wears, checking over the progress. His commset beeps and he presses a hand to it.

" _Molecular disassembly progress for the spill is at two percent. Five percent of the piping at the three intact rigs is repaired and climbing._ "

" _Destroyed rig disassembly is at five percent and rising. We'll be dropping a second load to speed things up._ "

" _Be careful. Too much and it could really cause a catastrophe._ "

" _Understood. After two loads we're done._ "

"How's it looking otherwise?" he asks over the commset.

" _Sir, we've finished checking out the partially destroyed rigs. It's a go for salvage ops. We can scrounge up any remaining equipment to help patch the holes in the lines. But I don't think we'll be able to finish the repair job this month,_ " one of the soldiers says.

"Just keep working at it, mate! We need to get this thing under control!" Zero shoots back.

" _Yes, sir!_ "

He presses a button on the side of his commset and it changes frequencies. "How's the soil situation down in PNG?" he asks.

The screen bleeps a few times before the ID comes up. Colonel Fritz Adler. He knows the man from having served with him. He hears the distinct German accent and he smirks to himself, but it is wiped from his face as he begins to speak.

" _Zero, ve have both good news and bad news,_ " the colonel reports. " _The good news is that the soil is not as contaminated as ve have feared. The bad news is that ve cannot plant any trees here for fifty years. Ve can start the process, but vithout many resources from Meldney, ve cannot get it fixed in time._ "

"At least it's not permanent," Zero grumbles. "How long with what we have?"

Adler's voice is silent before he speaks. " _About fifteen years. Way too much time still, but it is something, at least._ "

Zero nods as the helicopter circles around, examining the rigs and spill. The process is going to take some time, he knows, so he forces himself to ignore it and focus on the matter at hand. "I'll see if I can get in contact with them and get some additional resources. The bad news is it may not be as many as you hope. The Veep doesn't want to overstretch our efforts."

" _I understand, Zero. Keep me informed, no?_ "

"I will, Fritz." Zero shuts down the commset and looks back out as he spots the second helo dropping its payload onto the destroyed rigs.

He watches as the solution falls, landing on the rigs. His eyes are hard as he scans over the rigs a second time with his eyes. He lifts up the binoculars, and his eyes harden. "Damn barbies... They'll be sorry for this...!"

* * *

 **Location: Unknown**

 **Time: 1600 hours**

 **Date: Friday, 12 May 95 ADD (2158 AD)**

A shadowy figure lurks in the fog surrounding the small fishing community in District Four. It looks left and right, its body shaking as it runs into the mist, coming to a halt just outside the old bar/inn. The door swings open and a man sticks his head out. He waves for the figure to come inside. As soon as the figure enters the building, the door shuts, throwing the small village into darkness once more.

The figure is hidden by the shadows, but the man seems to recognize him. He sighs as he places a hand on his face. "You are taking an enormous risk," he says to the shape.

"I know. But this information must get out. The AC..." The shape pauses, looking left and right before lowering the tone of voice. "The Confederation needs this desperately. Ever since our cover was blown..." A hand reaches into a pouch and lifts out some cash, and not Panemian currency. Old American dollars, now deemed forbidden by the Government, but still widely collectible for amateur historians.

"Is that it?" the man asks, frowning at it.

"Yes," the shape mutters. "I spent _days_ getting this together. But it never even occurred to me what the whistleblower did... Giving outdated information to the Confederation was sneaky... making it harder to work with the government. What are they trying to accomplish?"

The innkeeper snorts as he takes the cash and pockets it in a hidden pouch in his apron. "No clue. Best to not even ask, lest we have an informant here," he cautions.

The shape seems to huddle closer to itself and nods its hooded head. "I understand, Hadrianus. But is this even really right, what we're doing?"

Hadrianus rolls his eyes as he grabs a nearby glass and starts cleaning it as the door creaks open and a pair of Peacekeepers wanders in. Both men are looking alert, and his guest seems to deflate in submission. Hadrianus merely continues his cleaning as the two men come his way.

"Are you the proprietor of this establishment?" one of them asks.

He nods, not even flinching. "Yes. Why?"

"We have reason to believe that this man has been seen in the immediate vicinity of this village," one of the Peacekeepers says in a cold tone, holding out a picture of the man in question. Hadrianus narrows his eyes, knowing instantly it is the man who has come to see him. But he brushes it off and just sweeps his arm around.

"As you can see, Officer, there is no one like that here," he says curtly. "It's just me and the regs."

The Peacekeeper narrows his gaze behind his helmet and frowns. He scans around the facility, but it's much too seedy for anyone but the fishermen and drug dealers. The shape in the corner of the bar merely sips a glass of booze, trying to remain calm.

The man grunts as he steps closer to the shape and grabs its shoulder. "Are you one of the regs here?"

The shape looks back, its hooded face barely visible in the dim lighting. For a tense moment, everything is still, and Hadrianus inches his hand for the pistol he carries. But then the head nods and a gravely voice issues out from under the cloak. "Yeh. So what?"

The Peacekeeper is silent, but then slowly his hand withdraws from the shape's shoulder and the pair meet back up before leaving the inn/bar. The first Peacekeeper looks back. "If you see him, report to us at once!" he barks.

The innkeeper merely snorts before waving them out.

The door slams shut and the patrons resume their normal activities.

The shape sighs before slipping the cloak back somewhat to expose a young Capitolite in his late twenties. His silvery hair is a dead giveaway, as is his metallic skin and grungy appearance. He glances back out the dirty window as the two men drive off. "That was too close..." he says in a whisper. "I was worried..."

"As am I, Antipatros," the innkeeper says as he looks back at his guest. "You're in danger, you know that?"

Antipatros nods, shivering as he draws into himself. "Yes..." he whispers. "And I need to get out."

Hadrianus shakes his head. "Best bet I can say is take a fishing boat out and jump overboard. Someone's bound to pick you up. You swim?"

His guest perks up and nods. "Yes. Why?"

A smirk crosses the old innkeeper's face as he lowers his voice. "My ex-wife's fishing boat. It'll get you out of here, and it's got scuba gear on board. Swim as far to the rendezvous and ditch the boat. I got a speedboat I can use instead."

The young Capitolite smiles in visible relief as he clasps the old man's hand. When he pulls it back, nestled within his palm is a sleek data drive, compatible with the latest Australian computers. The man scurries out into the misty evening.

* * *

 **Location: Oil spill - Papua New Guinea**

 **Time: 1800 hours**

 **Date: Friday, 12 May, 139 AF (2158 AD)**

Seph growls lowly as the helicopter banks right, flying directly over the seething mass of oil. He can see booms being erected by the two ships to contain it. The large number manufactured in recent years has allowed them to contain more minor spills, but this is the first time they've been used to contain a spill as massive as this one. It extends out even beyond the maximum zoom range for his optic. His eye narrows as he grips the handle above the door tightly, feeling the metal denting under his strength.

"Yeah. It's bad, sir," the pilot says. He grips the control stick tightly in his hands. Seph looks over, and his optic whirs as he zooms back to normal focus. He can see the pilot's face is filled with disgust and he can't help but feel the same.

"How long do you think it'll take?" the pilot asks.

The President turns back to the spill and snorts. "Martha said about a few years. But due to the scale of this, it's unknown for the time frame." His optic flashes red. "I'm surprised they even pulled such a low move..." His teeth grit in anger. "...all to keep us busy for the next few years! And for what?"

The pilot shrugs. "I can't say, sir. But those bloody barbies are gonna be in for it soon, I hope."

Seph grunts once. "Hardly. We're gonna be busy with this, and on top of it we have the preparations for the concerts to focus on, as well as containing Pok's masses."

The pilot looks over out of the corner of his eye, confused. "Masses, sir?"

Here the President shifts, his eye hard and his optic flashing red angrily. "Damn right! Bloody masses of obedient drone-soldiers! Bloody communist thinking has left them unable to think for themselves! It's the same in the USS, mate. And I'm not referring to them as individuals until we can get some sense back into the world's leaders," he growls softly.

The way his superior says it sends shivers down the pilot's spine. Seph's words sound more like a dragon's growl than anything, and he gulps.

The helicopter circles a bit longer before Seph sighs. "I've seen enough. Head back."

The pilot nods, feeling intense relief. He turns the helicopter back towards the carrier, its rotors beating the air above it. As the spill fades behind them, Seph grits his teeth.

 _One day... they_ will _remember... That... I guarantee!_ he thinks. _America will be reborn, just like the Phoenix... and Panem's Ultranationalist elites will one day die! That I swear!_

* * *

 **Ooh boy. Looks like a spy is intending on getting away, and Seph's busy with an oil cleanup. But what about the Games? As they draw closer, the Australian Confederation gears up for their biggest concert yet, and the spy satellites are about to be put to work scanning for the arena. What does Panem have planned for this year's Games?**

 **Stay tuned, my peeps~!**

 **Ja ne~! ;D**


	7. The Last Journey Home

The light from the moon is partially concealed by the clouds as the lone fishing boat motors through the waves. Antipatros Thomas looks left and right as he pilots the boat through the darkness of the evening. He shudders as he grips the wheel in his hands. His heart rate is through the roof, and he is clammy with sweat. Although the young man failed to find anything when he scanned the boat for any bugs, that doesn't mean they aren't there. He gulps as he spots the rendezvous point on the GPS screen.

Yet there is nothing out here.

He cuts the engine and drifts to a stop. He walks to the railing and peers out, his eyes wide as he scans the dark horizon.

Then he hears it.

It's soft, but it's there.

The sound of water running off something. He looks back towards the bow of the boat and stares in shock as he sees a glimmering black shape rising from the waters. For a moment, he fears it's one of Panem's _Kraken_ -class submarines. He grips the gun in his shorts pocket and pulls it out, aiming it at the submarine as it finishes coming to the surface.

He is tense, and is willing to fight to the end this time. No more of his fear getting the better of him.

The conning tower hatch opens and a man sticks his upper torso out, shining a light in the direction of the boat.

* * *

 **(** _The scene shows a small flame before darkness snuffs it out. But a small ember burns..._ **)**

 **Hikari ga tsudzuku... ! (** _The ember is blown away, becoming one of many as the sun begins to rise beyond a war-torn town._ **)**

 **Hikari ga tsudzuku...** **! (** _The light from the sun overcomes the camera and it fills the screen before fading to show the skyline of Sydney and the name of the series._ **)**

 **Yami ga sono tochi o shuchō suru kamo shirenai (** _The image flares before it shows two people trapped in a ruined structure in what was once Shanghai. They are both shaking and are wounded from shrapnel._ **)**

 **Shikashi, kibō wa enjo no te o kasu (** _A pair of explosions rocks the area and they huddle and whimper before someone lifts the debris off the two of them. It is a group of Australian soldiers._ **)**

 **Sekai ga kawaru to (** _The soldiers help the two children to their feet before one of them grabs a grenade and throws it at some bandits coming to pillage. The grenade explodes before the debris falls away, exposing the ruins of Europe, Marshal Sergei Kudryavtsev's image over the continent, King Lawrence III opposing him over Europe as well._ **)**

 **Furui risō wa moe tsudzukeru (** _The scene is engulfed in a bright flash as it shows Korean soldiers storming through city ruins in what was once Seoul, South Korea, carrying Panemian weaponry as rebels fight back desperately. Above them is Ahn Sun Pok, her face twisted into a sneer as she holds her hands upwards, as if mocking the world's helplessness. Behind her is the Panemian Vice President while President Kane is off to the side, gazing at the sky._ **)**

 **Kieru hikarinonakade (** _With a wave of her hand, she commands the forces to open fire on rebel positions. Missiles rain down, the black smoke engulfing the area before it is blown aside by a hoverplane._ **)**

 **Kurayami ga hirogaru ni tsurete (** _The hoverplane is painted in Arabian colors, and on top of the imposing palace is Muthasim V, the sultan. He looks back as it fades to a map, showing the Egyptian Union breaking away from them. But then it shows the country turning a bluish green as it fades to show a new figure in the shadows._ **)**

 **Watashitachi no kibō wa tsudzukudeshou (** _The figure holds up its right arm before it lunges out, coming into the light to reveal Seph Matthews as he swings his beam saber mounted onto his right arm, cutting through a bandit before spinning and cleaving another's gun in two, following up with a left hook leaving him dazed. He turns, his left optics lens flaring red as it engulfs the screen._ **)**

 **Watashitachi ga mada ikite iru kagiri (** _The light fades to show three other members, all of them gathered around in front of the Meldney Complex. To the left is Japanese Empress Yuki Minaguma. To the right is Filipino President Gueo Largina. And in the middle is Taiwanese President Chae Yang Un. Behind them the flag of the Australian Confederation flutters before the camera zooms in on it, only for it to fall away._ **)**

 **Un, hikari ga tsudzuku! (** _The image of Sydney is revealed, above it Seph and his fellow leaders side by side with the sun behind them, the Australian Confederation flag above them all as the series name appears below them._ **)**

* * *

 **Chapter 6: The Last Journey Home**

 **Location: Pacific Ocean - International Waters**

 **Time: 0100 hours**

 **Date: Saturday, 13 May, 139 AF (2158 AD)**

Antipatros grits his teeth as he aims the gun. His eyes are hard like shards of ruby as he tightens his finger on the trigger.

Then the man calls out.

"Are you the bloke we were told to grab?"

His eyes widen as he hears that unmistakable accent. He slowly lowers the gun, but he is feeling hopeful.

"What is the date of the American Revolution?" he calls. Seeing as how he is a Capitolite, he has greater knowledge of the world Before the Fall. Yet he does not use the dating system so common in Panem.

"1776 BF." The man allows the young spy to see his face and Antipatros laughs in relief. The man before him has a shocking blue hair color, but his facial features are clearly Oriental. And on the shoulder of his uniform is the flag of the Confederation. "About time. We were wondering if you'd been nabbed, mate."

"Hardly. I almost was," the Capitolite says as he lowers the gun. "I'm Antipatros Thomas."

"I'm Captain Yang Man of the USS _Arista_ ," the Australian replies. He lifts up his cap. "Although I'm surprised someone such as yourself would be willing to defect."

Antipatros sighs. "It's that I'm so tired of this mentality that the Government has regarding the rest of the world. Specifically those Ultranationalists."

The submarine captain's lips curl into a smile. "That makes two of us," he remarks as he gestures. "C'mon. We've gotta bug out before those bastard blokes spot us."

The Capitolite looks at the submarine with some trepidation. He gulps before he holsters his gun and turns to make his way down belowdeck to gear up for the swim. But Man clears his throat. Antipatros looks back.

"Don't even bother, mate. We got this covered." The captain merely gestures again. "Best to just leave it all there."

The spy gulps again and nods, taking the advice and slips into the icy cold waters of the ocean. He gasps as the cold bites into his flesh and he starts to shiver uncontrollably. But as he feels the data drive in his chest pocket he grits his teeth, and drawing on reserves he never knew he had, starts to swim towards the sleek craft, forcing his shivering body to obey his commands. He starts to fall into a rhythm of sorts, thinking over and over in his mind _free will not drone free will not drone free will not drone_ like a chant.

He starts to stroke all the way to the submarine. He doesn't even know he's reached it until he feels two pairs of hands grabbing his arms and hauling him out of the water onto the slick black hull.

The young man is shivering as he's ushered up onto the conning tower and then into the depths of the boat. A few people give him a blanket and he looks up, surprised. Someone, apparently a woman with pink hair and green eyes, pats him before moving deeper into the submarine. He is led to the bridge where he is told to sit by the captain.

The captain approaches and looks at the Capitolite. "So... you have it?" he asks, getting right to the point.

Antipatros nods as he pulls out the data drive. "I do."

Man holds out his hand to take it, and although he hesitates, the spy hands it over without a fuss. The captain examines it, checking it over with a fine-toothed comb, so to speak. He seems to not find any sign of tampering or Capitol technology embedded in it, so he hands it off to his XO and the woman walks off.

"Sorry. But we can't afford to take any chances with Panem," he says, folding his arms. "Once we get back to Australia, we'll examine it more thoroughly."

Antipatros shifts nervously in his seat. His eyes dart down to his hands as he wrings them. He knows not to ask questions regarding his fate, as all spies are treated as possible double agents unless proven otherwise. Truthfully, Antipatros was such an agent. But he genuinely wanted to be on the side of the Australians, as he is sick of seeing children dying all for the sick amusement of the Capitol. He is stunned, and rather horrified, by the kinds of things he has heard the Career families praising their children for in the Career Academies. And it makes his stomach churn.

Man's eyes narrow as he watches the Capitolite man. A frown mars his features. "Something's bothering you," he notes.

The Capitolite nods, feeling his stomach twisting in knots as he looks down at his clenched hands. "It's... I will be honest. I was asked to do this as a double agent... to betray you and reveal key things about you to my handlers..."

A few crew members grasp their guns and Man's eyes harden as they pull their pistols and aim them. "So? Why are you telling us this?" he asks, unfolding his arms and his hand inching for a button on the console.

"I... I no longer wish to do what I was recruited for," Antipatros mutters softly. "I... I'm just so sick of it all!" He grits his teeth. "I mean... Have you _heard_ what the Career families are praising their children for?!" he blurts out. "I'm sick of all of it! Killing children is not a sport! It's a barbarity that needs to be stopped and corrected!" He clenches his fists and slams them on his lap. "I just want it all to end! I... How can so many generations even take pride in sick, glorified murder?!"

Man's eyes widen a bit as he halts his hand just inches from the button. "I thought Capitol types were supposed to enjoy this shit," he muses.

"Not me..." Antipatros says in a soft tone. "I... I hate it... I know I should like it, but... after seeing what our history has said... I... I just also want the rest of Panem to be opened to the truth about the outside world..." he adds. "I... You are right on one thing: Panem is _not_ free. Under Snow, things were much worse..."

"Kane has changed things, we know that much," Man says as he keeps his hand where it is. "But we need up-to-date information, not the out of date stuff the whistleblower sent back. And that data drive... does it have it?"

Antipatros is silent as he nods. "Yes... Everything and then some."

That gets Man's attention. "And then some?" he asks, pulling his hand back from the console. "How can we be sure that it's not a trick?"

"You can't," the Capitolite confesses. "Not until you get back to your shores..." He looks down at his metallic-toned hands. "Or rather... _our_ shores..."

"Why do you wish to join us?" a crewmember asks harshly. "Did you not just say you were supposed to be a double agent for Panem?"

"That was supposed to be my original mission," he admits. "But I don't want to be. I want to be on your side... fight for a world that is better than this...shade, did you call it?... of a world we live in. I...I want to see openness, willingness to _trade_ \- not steal like some thugs or bandits - and tolerance for others, along with a reduction in coal and oil usage." He clenches his fists. "And I want people to be _normal_ , not this... mockery that is Panem..."

Man is intrigued. He folds his arms and purses his lips. "When you say _normal_ , mate, what do you mean?" he hums.

"I mean... that we of the Capitol no longer have this ridiculous accent," Antipatros says, gesturing to his face and mouth. "And that District Two has a sense of humanness to them; in other words, not focusing on being some damn murdering sociopaths who could care less for the weak." He winces. "My brother... he was supposed to be a Career, and he took great pride in his sadistic fantasies of killing children with his bare hands..." He outlines some of the more gruesome fantasies and the crewmen and women present all grimace and one even runs off to the bathroom to puke. Man however, only grows more angry with each one he hears until finally he has had enough.

He slams a fist on the console. "All right! I bloody get it!" he snarls. "So that's it... You want their killer instinct to be subdued back to normal levels, is that it?"

Antipatros nods, feeling sick to his stomach. He finally looks up. "That's what I mean by _normal,_ sir."

"Hmm..." Man purses his lips as he frowns. He folds his arms. "I see."

Antipatros is pleading as he suddenly lunges out of his seat, grabbing onto Man's uniform shirt, his eyes wide. "Please... don't let me go back there... Take me on! I'm begging you!" he cries.

Tears prick at his eyes and he looks down at the metal floor beneath his feet, his shoulders shaking. "I...I'd give anything... Anything to become one of you... One of the good guys... One of those who at least _respect_ the rights of children! I..." He finally lets go and starts sobbing as he breaks down. His very belief in Panem has been broken. All he knows has been revealed to be lies. Everything he's heard has become nothing but smoke and mirrors. While Panem has started to change, it is the mentality of the Careers that needs to be changed. And all he can feel is enormous guilt, hatred, and sickness at what the Government has done to Panem's youth.

He is sick to his stomach again and he actually does throw up, right on the floor.

Man is right there, grasping his shoulders and murmuring to him as he helps the ex-Panemian to his feet. "It's okay, mate," he whispers. "We'll make sure this doesn't go on..."

"You've done your part," a second crewmember says as she steps close to him. Her hands land on his shoulders and she gazes into his eyes. "Leave the rest to us."

Antipatros nods, feeling overwhelming relief flooding his body and, for the first time in years, he can feel at ease. He finally grabs her, hugging her and just letting it out.

Man smiles a bit before he becomes serious and dials in on the comm to the Chief of the Navy.

The communique is put on fats track, and it works its way up to the higher command of the Navy. But due to the fact that the Chief is on family leave for a few days, it doesn't reach her until she gets back. By that time, Antipatros Thomas no longer exists. The man that has taken his place is named Andrews Thomas, after a man who once built a great legacy...

A legacy that now rests beneath the harsh waves of the North Atlantic Sea...

* * *

 **Location: Presidential Quarters, Meldney Complex - Australia**

 **Time: 1400 hours**

 **Date: Monday, 15 May, 139 AF (2158 AD)**

Seph watches the monitor with a grim look on his face. His uniform is neatly pressed as usual, and his right arm's metal armor glimmers in the light from the comm on his desk. He waits for a moment before the confirmation code comes through.

Confirmation response: Omega-Nine-Four-Gamma-Banshee."

The screen comes up to reveal Vitus Nordstrum's face. He clearly looks relieved to see the Australian.

" _Where is Antipatros_ " he asks. " _Was he caught by Peacekeepers, is he_ alright?"

"No, no. Nothing of the sort my friend." He smiles. "He's on his way to the land down under. He's in good hands," he replies as Vitus blows out a sigh of relief.

"How are _you_ Vernon? Did they execute the spies yet?" he smiles, but deep inside he is reeling from the implications this may have.

" _No, not until after the interviews._ "Vitus says as his face darkens with anguish.

"They'll be remembered, they're on the right side of history, and I know this."

He murmurs in agreement. " _Other than that, things are well Matthews; we had just wrapped up our private sessions for the tributes._ " He taps a couple keys here and there. " _You should be getting a copy of said footage . . ._ now."

A notification sound chimes on his end of the line. "Data received. Thank you, my friend. Let the world see the atrocities this government promulgates."

He nods. The screen flickers briefly before it goes dark, revealing the Confederation's emblem. Seph tents his fingers as he leans in, his eye hard. "Computer: open file: Private Sessions."

The computer beeped before the device searched for the data, and within minutes it is shown on the screen. Seph's eye narrows as he presses a key on the keyboard and the video starts to play, along with the scores for each tribute... or rather, each _pawn_. He frowns as they start to do their sessions, and he takes note of all of their strengths and apparent weaknesses. His teeth grit as he watches Districts 1 and 2 go through their motions, and he pauses it, analyzing them. His eye becomes a mere slit as he notes the female tribute from 2, and he snarls.

He at once knows who he doesn't want to win.

"Proficient in all weapons, lacking in human skills. Just like a damn BCPU..." he hisses, remembering one of the old _Gundam_ series, _Gundam: SEED_ and the most deadly antagonists, the Biological CPUs. He wonders if the Ultranationalists considered District 2 like that... eager to supply them with soldiers to mold into superior specimens. But he brushes the thought aside as he finally continues examining the other tributes.

He takes note of the low score of some, but then his eye lands on the tributes from 12, and he smirks as he notes their scores, particularly Jai.

But what gets him is the information he gives. The revelation of the Head Gamemaker Mayfair nineteen years ago, back in 0120 AF, makes his suspicions begin to grow. The discovery that this boy mistakenly thought of himself as someone else... His theory has changed now. No longer is he sure the boy was touched by the Lord, but has a gift... or a curse, depending on how one looks at it.

The President frowns as he studies the boy, and his optic flickers a bit. Maybe this boy... has a connection to the past. A connection that could give him an edge in the arena, provided he knows how to tap and use it to great effect. But from what he's seeing, it doesn't look like young Jai has any idea of how to use it, let alone what it is. Even Seph himself has no idea, just a guess at best.

The door to the room slides open and he turns as Tina enters.

"Seph? You busy?" she asks.

The President shakes his head as he turns back to the tribute videos. "Nah. Just reviewing the data from our spies overseas," he says, resuming the video. There isn't much left, just one last tribute and then it goes dark. He rewinds it and starts from 2 this time, going out of order.

"I heard. But also that one of our spies got out with some data on the arena, right?" his wife asks.

Seph nods. "Yeah. Poor bloke is sick of it all. And I can't blame him."

Tina purses her lips as she analyzes the footage beside her husband. "And what of the other stuff? Did Captain Man say what it was?"

The Australian leader pauses the footage and looks at her. "Yeah. We got it. Up-to-date information on Panem. And let me tell you, people don't deserve to be monitored like in that Orwellian fiction, _Nineteen-Eighty-Four_. It's time we start to make a difference."

"And Sister Nina's concert may be that chance?" Tina asks. Seph turns to the footage and nods.

"Yeah. I just hope we can get them to see the truth... And that the whole world will see sense with this revelation one day..." He grips his hands together as he pauses, looking at the screen as he resumes it.

Tina's hand slides around his shoulders and he looks at her like she's nuts. She grips his right hand, kissing his grizzled left cheek right below his optic lens. "We will. There are still those who are willing to fight... And the world will see it one day..." she purrs.

A smile crosses his face as he returns the gesture, gripping her hand in his own, and kissing her passionately on the lips. They part before he speaks again. "Heh. You got that right, love," he whispers huskily.

The two lean in and kiss passionately once more, their tongues dancing before retreating and the two part, gazing at each other lovingly. Tina squeezes his hand gently before letting go. She glides out of the room, the door sliding shut behind her.

Now alone, Seph returns to the matter at hand. His optic lens locks onto Jai's face, and he ponders his next move.

Thankfully he doesn't have to wait long as the comm on his desk chimes. His gaze darts to it and he presses the button with his left hand. "Yeah? What is it?" he asks, minimizing the video window on his computer with his right hand.

" _Sir, the Admiral and the spy are here,_ " his security watch says.

A smirk crosses Seph's face. "All right. Send them in, Savanna," he tells her.

He turns to face the door, his hands tenting in front of his mouth as it slides open not even five minutes later. He can see the Chief of the Navy, Admiral Maya Fujioka, and beside her is the ex-Capitolite.

Seph's optic locks onto him and he notes that the boy is terrified, if his reaction is any indication. His metallic skin is streaked with sweat and his silvery hair appears greasy with it. The youth is no longer wearing the ridiculous fashions of the Capitol, and instead dons a simple black T-shirt with brown slacks and grey sneakers. The President takes note of the boy's rather lean physique and toned arms. He wonders briefly if he is one of the rare few that works out for natural looks, rather than altering their bodies in grotesque ways through surgery.

The two stand in front of his desk as they salute as one with the old American military salute.

Seph stands and returns it. "At ease, Admiral," he says.

The two drop their salutes as does Seph. He finally sits back down and glances at the boy. "He the one?"

The Admiral nods. "Yes, sir," she says. "We were able to get him back to our shores, but he did admit that he was supposed to be a double agent. Only he wished to betray his handlers and assist us for real."

Seph purses his lips, but says nothing. "I see. And?"

The woman reaches into her pocket and pulls out the data drive. "This is it. We had several of our Naval Intel spooks run it through a quantum supercomputer to check for any bugs or viruses. It turned up clean." She hands it over to the President.

He takes it and studies it for a moment before pocketing it. "That's good. Admiral, I'd like a full report on the boy's arrival after I debrief him. So stick around, okay?"

Admiral Fujioka nods and walks over to the couch, sitting down as Seph gestures for the youth to sit across from him. The trembling boy nods and takes his seat. Seph finally folds his hands in front of him as he sits back in his own chair. "So I heard you wish to betray your handlers. And for what reason?" he asks.

"I already told the Admiral!" the youth snaps, his Capitol accent already gritting on Seph's nerves. "I and my boss want to change it for the better! It's time to end this slaughter of children and brainwashing of Career Districts!"

Seph holds up a hand to calm the frightened youth. "Okay. Just calm down. We'll do just that." He moves his hand to the comm unit on his desk. "But first, want anything to drink?"

The boy's eyes widen as he hears this. "Y...You're not going to grill me for information?" he asks.

The President shakes his head. "I'm not as ruthless as I look. I only act that way when dealing with dictators like Pok." He sighs. "And off topic for a bit, but that accent of yours has got to go. Try and speak without it."

The kid's face flushes visibly and he nods.

"Now, what do you want to drink?" he asks again.

"I...Do you have any wine?" the boy inquires, trying his best to remove the Capitol accent by speaking in an Australian accent as best he can. Seph notes that some minor speech therapy can cure the rest. Seph nods his head in regards to the question though, returning to the matter at hand.

"We do," he says. "Just not the same as in your former home."

"Anything is better than there," the youth admits with a smile.

Seph nods as he presses the button. "Janice, can you send some wine up?" he asks. "And not that toxic stuff from 2021. The older or newer stuff."

" _What year?_ " Janice Whitman asks. " _I got a whole winery here, remember?_ "

"Any year. Just no 2021," Seph says. The woman at the other end of the comm unit affirms the request and he turns back to the boy. "So, what's your name, mate?" he asks.

The youth shifts nervously before he speaks. "Antipatros..." he mutters softly. "Or that was my former name..." He seems to straighten up, squaring his shoulders and speaking with renewed confidence. "But no longer. I go by Andrews Thomas, now."

That gets the Australian. His eye widens and his mouth falls open before he recollects himself. A smile crosses his lips. "A good choice," he says. "History for sure remembers that name. Except in that case it's reversed." His smile grows. "You got a bright future ahead of you, kid."

Andrews flushes a deep red as he runs a hand through his hair. "I... I suppose so," he mutters, feeling embarrassed.

Then Seph becomes serious as he finally tents his fingers. ""But back to the matter at hand. You brought some key data that we needed. Especially as now that we know how harsh the Government has been when it comes to freedoms."

Both Admiral Fujioka and Andrews perk up at the way he says the word. "W-What was that, sir? Why did you say 'Government' instead of 'government?'" she asks.

"Because it's not a true government if it doesn't truly represent the poorer peoples," Seph says. "And it reminds me all to well of Orwell's _Nineteen-Eighty-Four._ That book was a foreshadowing of what was to come in a sense. But not even he predicted what Panem would do to innocent children." His eye hardens as he gazes at both of them.

Andrews nods as he runs his hand through his silvery hair once more. "I know..." he whispers.

The door chimes at that moment and the President presses the comm button again. "It's open," he says. The door slides open and a uniformed server enters, but then, much to Andrews' shock, actually _speaks_ to the man.

"I brought you the wine, sir," he says, handing the bottle over. "It's from 2001. Also, here's your usual." He hands Seph a can of coke as well.

Seph nods and takes them both. "That'll do. Better than that toxic 2021 stuff." He pauses, then hands the man a tip. "Here. Use it for your son. I think he may enjoy that new Gundam model kit he's been eyeing." A small smile flits across his lips. The man nods, bowing in return. Then he leaves.

"W...That man... He's not an Avox?" he asks, genuinely surprised.

The Australian President grimaces. "No way in bloody hell, mate! We don't cut out the tongues of traitors! Rather they get sent into the bloody Outback Prisons! We're not friggin' barbarians like those in the Capitol are! Trust me. We at least don't deprive them of their sense of taste!" he growls.

Admiral Fujioka's eyes widen as he mentions the prisons. Constructed in the aftermath of the Apocalypse to house traitors and those who bore ill intentions, the Outback Prisons are the harshest places for criminals or even traitors to go. Minor things are for the normal prison system; foreign spies and collaborators are locked in the Outback Prison, in addition to child molesters and pedophiles. While considered inhumane by some human rights groups - not that many remain in this new world - it is a necessity that Seph knows has to be done in order to keep the spies from leaking critical intel back to their masters. It also helps as the Outback is still considered by some as rather hostile, even after the climate changed.

She knows how harsh they can be because her father was a former prison guard there, and he was no stranger to carrying out brutal actions towards those imprisoned inside. At least it stopped short of slavery. Beatings, whippings, and mild torture are carried out there to keep the most sickened minds in their place.

The admiral feels bad for those inside the prisons; but she knows that if given the chance, Seph would imprison all the elites of Panem in that place so they could get a mild taste of what they put their victims through in the arena.

Andrews though doesn't know of them, but he can grasp that they are a nasty place to be. He shivers against his will.

Seph though gently reassures the boy, "Don't worry though. We're not inhumane. We may give them food and shelter, but we don't treat them too kindly."

He nods briefly. "I-If you say so..."

The President grasps the wine bottle and pops the cork. "So... thirsty?" he asks.

The ex-Panemian nods and Seph pours them a standard glass each; none of the fancy glasses for this man. He hands them the glasses and takes the

"Now, let's start..."

The debriefing lasts well into the evening, and during that time, Seph learns a lot about how Panem _actually_ works. His eye is hard as he listens, and he interrupts to ask a few questions or inquire for some clarification on things. When it's over, the time is 1800 hours and everyone is hungry. So Seph puts in an order for something simple, but filling: pizza and salad.

To say Andrews is shocked is an understatement when Seph asks him what kind of topping he wants on his pizza. The boy is so used to indulging on fancy foods and wine that he finds it unusual that this man prefers to eat simple, but filling meals. But then again, Seph is not one to indulge like the fat asses in the Capitol. He knows from the footage that the Gamemakers - or rather Butchers, as he calls them - tend to feast and drink during the private sessions and it makes him sick to his stomach thinking of it. He grimaces and he clenches his hand around the coke can - his left, not his right.

Andrews finally agrees to a pizza, but with three toppings to compromise; he chooses anchovies, sausage, and mushrooms. The pizza doesn't take long to arrive to the office; there's about ten pizzerias in the Meldney Complex. The door opens and the delivery woman takes the tip with enthusiasm and runs off, leaving the three to eat in peace.

The ex-Capitolite is actually overjoyed to be trying something he considers exotic. The pizza is a far cry from the fare he is used to. It's everything that Panem's food is not: simple and filling. The boy eagerly dives in for his second slice, and Seph laughs as he greedily gulps it down, as if he had been starved for weeks.

Seph chugs down some of his coke before turning to the Admiral. "So, you say that Captain Man found the bloke in the middle of the Pacific Ocean on a fishing boat from Four?" he asks.

She nods. "Yes, sir. He brought the kid to me as I was out checking the cleanup ops. It's quite a mess out there."

Seph nods, his eye hard as his optic flares ever so slightly; he's trying to keep it in check for the youth with them so as to not scare him or give him the wrong impression. "I see..." he mutters, recalling the most recent projections on the cleanup. He briefly notes to contact Zero as soon as possible once this meeting is over.

The Admiral nods before continuing. She outlines his quest to reach District 4 before his near discovery at a local watering hole and then his escape to international waters. Seph is rather impressed this boy has managed to escape discovery for so long until this point. He smiles at him. "I gotta admit, Andrews. I'm rather impressed. For a Capitolite, you sure showed resourcefulness, something unheard of in Panem. All I can say is that you have a future besides being a Butcher. No offense."

Andrews is rather surprised at the compliment coming from a man like this. He is a far cry from what he has expected; he had half-expected a man who was brutal, harsh, and condescending towards all from the Capitol or Panem. Instead, this President Matthews is rather kind, considerate, and even - dare he say it? - friendly. His eye - of which there is only one - is rather keen, taking in his guest with a calculating gaze, and yet there is a hint of friendliness in that eye, and his optic glimmers with it as well. Despite his grizzled and scarred features, his muscular build, and rather intimidating height, he is a gentle giant at heart.

A small smile creeps out of hiding. "Y-You think so?" he asks, a tinge of hopefulness filling his voice.

Seph nods. "Yes. I do. Now... what talents do you have besides..." His voice trails off and he pauses.

Andrews draws into himself, his shoulders hunching and he gulps. "I... I have no real other talents..." he mutters, tears pricking at his eyes. "I...It's all I know how to do... help make arenas that kill innocent children..."

Seph feels a pang of sympathy for this boy, and he gets out of his seat, concern filling his features as he comes around his desk. He places his right hand on his shoulder, and Andrews jerks his head to look into Seoh's red optic lens and green eye.

"Andrews... listen to me. Everyone has something they're good at that does _not_ involve such barbarity. I know it's all you know how to do, but... I want you to _think_ on this one." He kneels down. "I mean, hell... I'm a damn good soldier, but that's not the _only_ thing I'm good at."

"It's not?" the boy asks. Seph shakes his head.

"No. I'm rather keen on the intelligence aspect of politics, _and_ I make a mean chili!" he jokes, winking at the kid.

Andrews looks at him like he's nuts. "You do?"

"Sure can," Seph says as he grins. "I know you've got something in there that can be translated into a profession you enjoy. So let's try again. What skills do you have that you enjoy?"

Here Andrews bites his lower lip, squeezing his hazel eyes shut as he tries to think. He recalls many days in his childhood where he loved to draw and to write. But he also has had a deep fascination with the programming of the protocol for security in the arenas. His love, he could say, came from that. He had applied to go to technical school, but was turned down for programming courses and so he went on to become a Gamemaker's Apprentice. He caught on quick to the basics, but when he expressed a desire to learn security programming, he was immediately sent down to the computer specialists where he was trained in security programming. Much to their surprise, he proved proficient enough to be assigned to that, and he rose quickly to become the head of security programming. He found it much more satisfying than anything, knowing he wrote those codes, so to speak.

As he returns to the present, his eyes widen as he realizes his real talent.

He turns to the President. "I... Actually... I find myself happiest when working with machines and coding..." he whispers.

Seph's eye widens and his optic flares a bit. "You like programming?" he asks.

The boy nods. "Yes. I do," he admits. "It's much more satisfying. Actually, I used to be head of the security programming division for the arenas..."

Now _that_ is a twist that he's not expecting. Seph's eye widens a bit more and his mouth falls open. "You... You did the programming for the security?" he asks, not just in awe, but shock and... and _realization_. Realization that they have here a major advantage in more ways than one. Here they have the head of the security programming, which means... they can _hack the arena's cyber defenses!_

His keen mind is already working, trying to figure out what the consequences will be and how to implement this advantage into their future foreign policies. He knows the biggest one is war, so he rejects the idea of altering the Games as these are the last five before they are shut down. But he keeps it as a 'nuclear option' if the enemy wins the war he is sure will break out upon the end of the Games. His memory of the conversation with Nina comes forth briefly, and he remembers her vague words on the future. He finally forces it aside and returns to the matter at hand.

"Andrews, I've got a proposition for you." The boy looks at him, confused. "How would you like to help us on something?"

"What?" he asks.

Seph smirks. "How would you like to sabotage any future Games if they continue after the Fourth Quell?"

* * *

 **Location: Matthews House, Sydney - Australia**

 **Time: 2000 hours**

Tina is shocked as her husband informs her and their two friends about the situation with the boy. "You're serious about this?!" Martha blurts, slamming her hands down on the living room table. "I mean, he could turn on us at any time!"

Seph shakes his head. "No. Besides, if he was going to turn traitor, he'd be more than eager to try and hack our security. When I presented him with such a firewall, he actually backed off from it. Said it was too complex, even for him."

Hunter frowns. "I dunno, mate. I mean, sure he developed the security code for the arena, but is it even right to risk war like this?"

Seph looks at his best friend with a serious gaze. "I agree it's not worth the risk, but it may come in handy if the Games continue after the Fourth Quell. I'm keeping it open as a last resort 'nuclear option.' I don't like it either, but we'll have no choice if Nina's future prediction proves true."

Tina becomes serious as she picks up Sophia who is purring near her legs. She places the cat on her lap and rubs between her ears. "I'm not saying I doubt Nina, but isn't this a bit risky, placing it all on a single possible vision? I mean, she's had them before and they've never really passed entirely."

The President sighs. "True on that one, Tina. True on that one. But this time she seemed certain. And I'm willing to put a bet on that. But also, remember. The Ultranationalists will want the bloody Games to continue while the moderates and others will want them to end. No doubt it will lead to a split, and a civil war." His eye is hard as he looks at all three of them. His optic flares red briefly. "Cold, rational logic is pointing to that. Not _just_ Nina's prediction."

Martha leans back in her seat and gazes out in the direction of the city. "So in short, you're preparing for an eventual loss," she muses.

"As much as I hate to admit it, yes," Seph admits. "But you gotta remember. We have to play it safe for now until we have enough mobile suits and Gundams to offset our naval discrepancies." He looks at the table briefly. "And if there _is_ a civil war once more... this time..." His optic flares brightly. "We're getting involved on the side of the resistance."

The other three become grim-faced as he says this, and they each nod as one.

This time, there is no holding back. And they are ready for war if it comes down to it again.

Hunter finally remembers something as he looks at Seph. "Oh! I just remembered! We got the spy sats up and running. We're scanning for the arena now."

Seph's eye is hard as he hears the news, and his lips curl upward in a grim smile. "Good. The sooner we know of its location, the better. Then we can start tracking the tributes and... if need be, sabotage the mutts somehow..."

* * *

 **Location: Oil spill**

 **Time: 0000 hours**

 **Date: Tuesday, 16 May, 139 AF (2158 AD)**

Zero watches as the nanobuilders continue their work of disassembling the spill, and the oil rigs that have been destroyed are nearing the quarter point for disassembly. The three rigs that had their pipes damaged are still working, and the pipes are three-quarters of the way repaired. He has to admit, it helps that the oil has metal and carbon inside it for use. And the destroyed rigs have also contributed in some way.

He finishes up compiling the report on the progress and stows it away in his briefcase before closing it.

He then turns to look out at the window at the shimmering fluid pulsing within the thick spill. It still never fails to amaze him as he feels a smile cross his lips against his will. Some small part of him finds seeing the nanobuilders in action relaxing, and he watches for a few minutes, letting his mind wander free from the stress of the job.

The beeping of his commset gets his attention and he turns back to it, pressing the side of the device. "Yeah? Zero here."

The familiar voice of Colonel Fritz Adler comes over the line, his thick German accent easily recognizable. " _Sir, we have some rather upsetting news down here in PNG._ "

"What now?" he growls in frustration.

" _It's the soil contamination. It involves the use of highly toxic pesticides that were once banned by the former United States!_ " the German immigrant blurts. " _Pesticides that ve have proven to be lethal to humans and other animals in high concentrations. I'm afraid ve have no choice but to use the nanobuilders to remove these toxic substances._ "

Zero can't stand it. He grits his teeth and shouts in a wide variety of Vietnamese cuss words, slamming his fists against the wall of the helicopter. "Damn đồ đạc! They think their ngọc hành are superior, huh?!" he growls. "Well, think again, you weak-willed côn đồ!"

He looks back in the direction of Panem, and he snarls in anger. He finally presses a hand to his commset once more. "Colonel, you have my permission. Just get that soil detoxed so we can start restoring the fauna and flora at once!"

" _Yes, sir!_ " Adler replies. Static fills the commset briefly before Zero turns his gaze back to the spill below him.

"Lord Almighty, help us now..." he whispers. He clenches his hand right over his heart as he mutters a small prayer under his breath.

He finally looks up once more and turns to the pilot. "Get us back to the ship," he orders. "I've got the reports to send."

The pilot nods. "Yes, sir!" he says, putting the helo into a tight turn. Zero grips his seatbelt in one hand and watches as the spill reorients itself below the aircraft. It falls behind them, beyond the booms which are doing their job of holding back the spill, and fades as the carrier comes into view. The USS _Enterprise_ is lit up, and he feels an immense sense of relief as he sees the ship. The only _Gerald R. Ford_ -class carrier to remain, he feels an immense sense of pride knowing that this ship still fights for what's right, and for what they believe in. That is why Australia has become so powerful, he knows. Because of those who are willing to fight for what they believe in.

He is brought back from his musings as the carrier's control tower radios in. He shifts in his seat as the craft begins landing procedures.

 _Once the report is sent, I'll be able to get some rest at least..._ he thinks to himself. _And maybe catch up on times with my husband..._

* * *

 **All right, peeps! Here's the next chapter! :D Hope you all are keeping up with Haus der Toten, as well. :) It looks like Seph has offered the newcomer the job of a lifetime. And what of the tributes? And the arena? How is the hunt for it going? Be sure to read and review both fics, peeps~! ;D**

 **Ja ne! :)**


	8. Something to Believe

He stands atop the Sydney Tower, on the roof of the observation deck. His eye is narrowed as his arms are folded across his chest, the wind blowing his hair. Beside him stand his fellow leaders.

Minaguma's eyes are soft as she eyes the light from the rising sun.

"I guess this is it..." she whispers. "Another year of those Games."

Largina snorts through his mask's ventilation slats. "Yes. But we are prepared, are we not?" He turns to Seph.

"Hardly..." he mutters with a snort. "But we _are_ better prepared this year." His optic flares red in the morning light, and Un frowns as he notes his fellow leader's expression.

"I hope you aren't going to do anything drastic, Matthews," Un says.

Seph shakes his head. "Not even thinking about it, mate," he mutters. "Not since that last incursion succeeded. After they were driven off from the farm barges, they retreated and haven't come close to our borders since. From what we know, and from past experiences, those bloody 'Hunger Games' draw everyone's attention over there."

"What about Pok?" Minaguma asks.

"We'll handle her for sure," Seph hisses. "But not right now. We need to be ready for the Games..."

* * *

 **(** _The scene shows a small flame before darkness snuffs it out. But a small ember burns..._ **)**

 **Hikari ga tsudzuku... ! (** _The ember is blown away, becoming one of many as the sun begins to rise beyond a war-torn town._ **)**

 **Hikari ga tsudzuku... ! (** _The light from the sun overcomes the camera and it fills the screen before fading to show the skyline of Sydney and the name of the series._ **)**

 **Yami ga sono tochi o shuchō suru kamo shirenai (** _The image flares before it shows two people trapped in a ruined structure in what was once Shanghai. They are both shaking and are wounded from shrapnel._ **)**

 **Shikashi, kibō wa enjo no te o kasu (** _A pair of explosions rocks the area and they huddle and whimper before someone lifts the debris off the two of them. It is a group of Australian soldiers._ **)**

 **Sekai ga kawaru to (** _The soldiers help the two children to their feet before one of them grabs a grenade and throws it at some bandits coming to pillage. The grenade explodes before the debris falls away, exposing the ruins of Europe, Marshal Sergei Kudryavtsev's image over the continent, King Lawrence III opposing him over Europe as well._ **)**

 **Furui risō wa moe tsudzukeru (** _The scene is engulfed in a bright flash as it shows Korean soldiers storming through city ruins in what was once Seoul, South Korea, carrying Panemian weaponry as rebels fight back desperately. Above them is Ahn Sun Pok, her face twisted into a sneer as she holds her hands upwards, as if mocking the world's helplessness. Behind her is the Panemian Vice President while President Kane is off to the side, gazing at the sky._ **)**

 **Kieru hikarinonakade (** _With a wave of her hand, she commands the forces to open fire on rebel positions. Missiles rain down, the black smoke engulfing the area before it is blown aside by a hoverplane._ **)**

 **Kurayami ga hirogaru ni tsurete (** _The hoverplane is painted in Arabian colors, and on top of the imposing palace is Muthasim V, the sultan. He looks back as it fades to a map, showing the Egyptian Union breaking away from them. But then it shows the country turning a bluish green as it fades to show a new figure in the shadows._ **)**

 **Watashitachi no kibō wa tsudzukudeshou (** _The figure holds up its right arm before it lunges out, coming into the light to reveal Seph Matthews as he swings his beam saber mounted onto his right arm, cutting through a bandit before spinning and cleaving another's gun in two, following up with a left hook leaving him dazed. He turns, his left optics lens flaring red as it engulfs the screen._ **)**

 **Watashitachi ga mada ikite iru kagiri (** _The light fades to show three other members, all of them gathered around in front of the Meldney Complex. To the left is Japanese Empress Yuki Minaguma. To the right is Filipino President Gueo Largina. And in the middle is Taiwanese President Chae Yang Un. Behind them the flag of the Australian Confederation flutters before the camera zooms in on it, only for it to fall away._ **)**

 **Un, hikari ga tsudzuku! (** _The image of Sydney is revealed, above it Seph and his fellow leaders side by side with the sun behind them, the Australian Confederation flag above them all as the series name appears below them._ **)**

* * *

 **Chapter 7: Something to Believe**

 **Location: Sydney Tower Observation Deck, Sydney - Australia**

 **Time: 1000 hours**

 **Date: Tuesday, 16 May, 139 AF (2158 AD)**

Seph's eye flicks to the city below him and he feels a smile tug at his lips. He can see the vast array of green power sources lining the cityscape, and it really brings a sense of relief and happiness to his heart when he sees it. Solar panels glimmer in the light of the sun as it peeks over the skyline, and wind turbines hum both on and offshore. He can see the facilities for the wave pumps, and further out beyond the city's outskirts he can see the nuclear fusion reactor power plants giving the city the majority of its power. Power stations for the electric cars and hydrogen fueling stations line the streets at intervals, and he can also see the massive algae farms closer to Sydney Bay.

But then his mind drifts back to Panem, and he scowls to himself. "Damn blokes don't get it..." he mutters. He crosses his arms as he turns away from the city view and walks towards the elevator.

Around him a group of Secret Service agents watch, keeping their eyes peeled for any possible assassins from foreign powers, namely Panem, Korea, and the USS. He flicks his eye down to his beam saber on his right arm briefly before returning to the matter at hand.

Today is the day, he knows. The day the Games begin. And all he wants to do is make sure that the kids don't go through this barbaric tradition again. But until further notice...

His musings are interrupted by his commset beeping and his hand flies to it. He presses the button. "Yeah? What is it, mate?" he asks Hunter.

" _We found it, Seph! We bloody found it!_ " his best friend cries in excitement.

"What?!" Seph jolts as he hears those words. "You found the bloody arena?!"

" _Yes! We damn did!_ " Hunter blabs excitedly. " _The_ _sats just picked up a hoverplane heading in that direction! We tailed it, and there it was!_ "

There is only silence for a moment before a smile starts to cross Seph's face. He can't help it. He lets out a whoop of excitement as he punches the air. " _Yes!_ " he cries. "About damn time, too!"

Hunter nods, even though he can't see it. " _Hell yeah!_ " Then his voice becomes serious. " _We'll start observation as soon as possible._ "

"Good. Keep me informed, mate," Seph says.

The affirmative echoes over the line before it goes dark. Seph's hand falls away from his commset and he becomes serious as he enters the elevator. The ride down allows his mind to drift back to the meeting a few days ago with the Spanish ruler and his fellow nobles.

That's a day he can never forget...

* * *

 _ **-Flashback-**_

 _ **Location: Spanish Airspace, over Madrid - Spain, Iberian Peninsula**_

 _ **Time: 2100 hours**_

 _ **Date: Monday, 15 May, 139 AF (2158 AD)**_

 _The aircraft circles around, its paint a dark grey color in the dim light of the sun as it tries to peek through the darkness of the soot covering the sun. He scowls at the sight, and his eye becomes hard as his optic flickers in his anger. Around him hum the engines of the last known passenger plane in service, the Boeing 747-8. The four-engine Boeing was the last one to ever land in Australian territory, and it has served as a Presidential aircraft ever since._

 _Ever since landing, the plane has been extensively modified and overhauled to keep it up to date and in good condition. The plane's paint job has been removed and replaced with a light grey color scheme to blend in with the cloudy skies over most of the so-called 'nations' Panem is 'allied' with, a key advantage when it comes to losing pursuers. The scheme also grants it invisibility when the sun goes down beyond the clouds, making it a specter of the past as it lurks amongst the ruins of the present. To also add to its invisibility, the plane has flares equipped to it to foul up any enemy heat seeking missiles, and jammers to scramble their radar. Other classified features are also added._

 _Seph is grateful knowing that this plane has lasted for over one hundred years in service and has continued to be an extremely reliable piece of equipment. And he knows of the risks it poses to fly through foreign airspace without permission. But that's why his plane has been painted a grey color and has jammers equipped. Unlike the old Air Force One, this plane doesn't have the name of his country or alliance on it. At least from a distance. The name is actually there, but it's been made a slightly darker shade that is only visible when one gets close to it._

 _He turns his gaze back from the window to the room he's in, and he sits down beside his VP, and his wife and Chief of Staff. The foursome are the only ones in this room at the moment. The others coming with are all in their separate spaces, either getting ready for the meeting or just going over business for back home to keep the country and alliance running smoothly._

 _A flash of grey passes by the window and he shoots a glance back at it, noting with some sense of pride that it's one of the fighter jets assigned to escort them._

 _The fighter jets are a far cry from hoverplanes, as they are considered slower than some of them. But in terms of flight ceiling, they surpass all hoverplanes, a key advantage that Seph knows makes all the difference in the world. They have the same design as the old F/A-22 Raptor from the old America, but are filled with more advanced technology and are able to evade radar more effectively._

 _He hears Martha cough a bit beside him as she gets his attention._

 _Seph turns to face her and looks at his friends and wife. "We'll be there soon, I take it?" he asks._

 _Martha nods as she steps closer to be beside him. "Yeah. The blokes there have already cleared us for landing." She pauses. "I take it you have something planned?"_

 _Seph smiles grimly. "Just a little something intended to show those blokes what the world has come to After the Fall." He pats the chest pocket of his uniform with his right hand and she nods, getting the idea._

 _Beside him Tina is silent before she speaks. "You think they'll believe us?" she asks quietly._

 _Hunter snorts as he crosses his arms and leans back in the chair, placing his feet on the table; while not standard protocol, Seph could care less about the table's appearance. As long as there's no really bad cracks or dings, he doesn't mind. The plane has to be at least modestly clean, not downright dirty or absolutely spotless. "Hardly," he grunts. "I'm not too sure on this, to be honest. I mean, what if they turn against us and go to Panem's side?"_

 _The threesome fall silent at his words, and Seph grimaces. "I dunno about that," he says. "I doubt they'll scurry to Panem's side after I show them this data."_

 _His optic flares bright red and he grits his teeth. "This time... we're gonna get to them before Panem does!"_

 _The door to the room slides open and all four turn; Hunter puts his feet back down on the floor._

 _Agent Seabrooke enters. His sunglasses are currently resting on his forehead, exposing his reddish eyes and contrasting with his white hair. "We're here, sirs, ma'ams," he says._

 _Seph nods. "All right. We'll be out in a bit."_

 _All four take their seats as the plane begins to descend._

 _During the landing, Seph can only think about the risks for this whole thing. The entire Egyptian Union is on his side, he knows, but due to the Spanish factor, it only makes this risky. No one has heard from Spain since the end of the Apocalypse, and only now have they started to send out feelers into the outside world. He's just thankful that some cunning American immigrants had hacked the US military satellite network to keep some of it out of Panem's hands. So to be honest he's a bit wary of the whole deal with this meeting._

 _The plane finally touches down at the remains of Madrid's airport. Seph is confused as the plane taxies to a stop close to one of the old terminals. Not many planes remain here, and what few do are rotting and falling apart._

 _Instincts honed from years in the military kick in and he is instantly on guard as are his friends and wife. More Secret Service agents swarm into view and take up positions of security as the other members of the delegation are ushered into the room, all looking quite worried. The next thing they know, sirens wail around them and many vehicles, some of them old law enforcement models, come careening into view._

 _The plane is surrounded by the vehicles, which include a few dozen old tanks from Before the Fall. His eye hardens and his optic flashes briefly. "Shit...!" he mutters._

 _Within minutes the lead vehicle aims its gun at the old Boeing. A voice in Spanish barks out, and Seph has to struggle to translate it; Spanish is not his strong suite. Thankfully Seabrooke is somewhat fluent in it; his father is of Spanish descent._

 _The agent steps closer to the window and narrows his eyes as he frowns._

 _"They're demanding that we come out with our hands up," he says._

 _The Australian growls as the order comes again. When they don't respond, a second command is given. He watches as a set of stairs is hauled out of storage and is dragged over to the side of the plane. He turns and makes for the door, intent on meeting them face-to-face, fist-to-fist if need be. The closest agent tries to block him, but Seph just shoves the man aside. "Out of my way, mate!" he shouts._

 _The door opens to reveal the interior hallway and the side entrance. The door is already beginning to buckle under some ramming, and he grabs the handle, flicking out his beam saber and, with his left arm, wrenches it open. The door flies open and a man clad in a Spanish military uniform comes in with a sword of his own. Seph meets the man's blade with the glowing blue beam of his beam saber._

 _The two press against each other, trying to outdo the other in strength. Seph sizes up his adversary with a keen eye. His opponent is six foot one, just an inch under his six foot two, and is lean in build. He has a healthy beard, in contrast to Seph who has none. His hair is longer and messy, and his right eye is covered with an eye patch. The Spaniard also has the marks of a general on his uniform._

 _His opponent seems to be a bit intimidated by Seph's overall appearance: grizzled features, an intimidating height with muscular build, right arm entirely mechanical and a Gundam-styled optic in place of his left eye. But he doesn't back down. Instead he shifts his weight and using his momentum, presses Seph until he's finally outside the plane on the top of the staircase. Seph is caught off guard by the tactic and glances back before he turns his gaze back to his opponent. Only the man comes lunging out of the plane, slamming into the Australian and sends him falling._

 _Seph grits his teeth and, drawing on training long since ingrained into him, twists his body around and lands on his feet and one hand like a cat. He glances up in time to see the man jump off the top of the stairs as more people start to surround the aircraft. He brings up his beam saber and blocks the sword, the energy blade creating sparks between them. He can hear Seabrooke calling for him from the top of the stairs, but he brushes it aside and draws on his impressive strength to push back. He starts to get up, pushing the opponent's sword back._

 _The Spaniard's eye widens as he sees this foreigner actually getting back up. "You...You dare to attack us unprovoked?!" Seph growls. "What have we done to deserve such a welcome?!"_

 _The man grunts. He doesn't answer._

 _Seph grits his teeth again and presses back, finally matching the Spaniard in strength before suddenly breaking off and landing a few feet away. His optic whirs a bit as he studies the Spanish general. He briefly wonders if this man is one of many warlords lording over the region like in China. If that is the case, then maybe this wasn't such a good idea, after all, he muses as he growls._

 _The Spaniard lunges again, this time drawing out a pistol from a side holster and fires it, forcing Seph to duck to the side before it even fires. The Australian spins around, suddenly charging at him and bringing up his sword for a cross slash. The general barely blocks it with his own saber. The two men press again, Seph finally shoving the sword down and delivering a punch to the Spaniard's face. His blow does the trick in forcing the man to back off before he growls. "You dare to hit Army General Rogelio Bautista?!" he snarls._

 _"Only because you attacked us without provocation, mate!" Seph snaps back, his optic flashing red._

 _"How can we be sure you are who you say you are, Australian?" the general asks as he starts to circle._

 _"For one thing, the plane I bloody came on!" Seph says as he gets into a crouch and starts to turn slowly. "It's the last one left, and I intend to keep this thing as long as possible!"_

 _"Then where is the symbol of your alliance?" Bautista sneers._

 _"Security measure," Seph explains. "Don't want anyone trying to shoot us down as we illegally cross their airspace now, do we?" He keeps himself ready in case the Spaniard tries anything. "It's technically the fastest way to get here without wasting much fuel."_

 _Bautista frowns. "You illegally cross foreign airspace all the time, yes?" he asks._

 _Seph is silent as the two stare each other down._

 _There is tension in the air, and everyone is watching as both the Australian President and the Spanish Army General circle like two tigers ready to fight. It seems like this alliance is going to break apart even before it begins._

 _But thankfully someone arrives to see what the commotion is, and it turns out to be the man that Seph has come to see._

 _A small motorcycle careens around the corner, its engine noise catching both fighters by surprise. Many of the soldiers glance back at it and the plane's passengers all swarm to the door, peering out in confusion. The driver brings the bike to a drifting stop and a voice calls out. "¡El general Bautista! ¿Qué pasa en la Tierra aquí?"*_

 _The general turns to face the driver as he removes his helmet, exposing a man with neatly combed hair framing dark colored eyes and tanned skin. His features are somewhat aristocratic, and he wears a black leather jacket with dark pants and boots. But he carries an air about him that Seph has gotten from only one other man: an air of royalty._

 _"¡Príncipe Teófilo Oleastro, señor! ¡No es seguro para ti, mi señor!"* Bautista says, holding out an arm protectively._

 _The motorcyclist shakes his head as he finally speaks in English. "Stand down, General. These people are not a threat."_

 _The general is about to protest, but then a hand from the Spanish prince finally convinces him to do so. He sheathes his sword, and Seph shuts down his beam saber, folding it back into storage against his right forearm._

 _"I apologize for General Bautista's behavior," the prince says as he finally approaches Seph. The Australian eyes him critically, taking in his lean build and sort of scruffy appearance. The prince studies the man before him, taking note of his muscular physique and cybernetics. Both size each other up, and Seph finally steps forward._

 _The general prepares to attack, but Seph merely holds out his left hand. "No harm done," he says. "But I wish that you'd explain why he suddenly attacked us as soon as we landed."_

 _"Blame recent incursions by Panem," the prince scoffs as he shakes Seph's outstretched hand. "It's become quite a hassle trying to keep them out of our borders. They claim they're here to help us, but I highly doubt it."_

 _Seph's optic flares, and Prince Oleastro's eyes widen in mild surprise and intimidation. "Mate, you have no idea how right you are..."_

 ** _End Flashback_**

Seph is brought back to the present by the beeping of the elevator and he exits once the doors slide open. He makes his way back to the entrance of the tower and the doors slide shut once he leaves the building.

The Beast is already waiting for him as he gets in.

As the limo drives off, Seph turns to look out the window, his mind drifting back to the meeting in Spain once more.

 ** _Flashback_**

 _The palace is a mess, but at least it is in somewhat a decent shape compared to other buildings. There are several dozen undergoing reconstruction efforts, and some of them are even patched up with just duct tape and boards and half-broken windows. It's a city that has no resources to repair itself very effectively right now, but the people are learning to make do with what they have. Seph quietly makes a note to provide more resources so they can rebuild more effectively._

 _The doors barely swing open, but when they do, they reveal the battered, but intact interior of the royal palace. Seph and his delegation are led past the dust-covered Grand Staircase into the royal library, which is covered in dust and dirt from winds blowing the stuff in through several cracked windows. The prince turns and looks at the Australian apologetically._

 _"I am deeply sorry you have to see the palace in this state..." he says with a sheepish look._

 _Seph merely brushes it off and waves a hand dismissively. "I've been in worse, mate," he insists. "I'm out in the field whenever I get a chance, so this is no big deal."_

 _Prince Oleastro blinks in mild surprise. "I'm surprised, Señor Matthews. I thought you'd appreciate finer surroundings," he remarks. "And given the state of much of the country, this was the best I could do."_

 _Seph just grunts. "Trust me, mate. I am_ nothing _like those blokes from Panem. I hate the idea of living luxuriously while others suffer." He reaches into his pocket and pulls out a photograph before handing it to the prince. "See for yourself."_

 _The prince looks at the photo, surprised to see that the Australian is standing in front of a modest ranch house with his wife and two young adults beside him. "I prefer the simpler places to live."_

 _Prince Oleastro chuckles and hands it back to the Australian President. "I can see why then, señor," he says. He looks him up and down again. "And if your appearance is anything to go by, you're not the kind of man to waste resources, are you?"_

 _The ex-soldier can't help but feel immense pride at the prince's comment. He stands up straighter and more erect, like he did in his youth in the military. "I can safely say with pride that it's true on that one, mate," he says with a smirk. "Whatever we use, we put towards our people, not some elites who would subjugate the populace for their own gain."_

 _Seph's feelings are brought back to reality as he hears his wife clear her throat and he turns, looking at her with a sheepish grin on his face. "Sorry, hon."_

 _The prince can't help but feel a bit jealous that he has someone, but he brushes it aside and returns to the matter at hand. "So, señor, shall we get to the reason why you're here?"_

 _Seph nods, becoming serious as he and his delegation are led to a table that is somewhat clear of dust. Prince Oleastro pulls a set of chairs from storage underneath a tarp - the former soldier notes that they're plastic and foldable, not that he cared; he'd sat on metal ones during cold winters in China before - and sets them up. He gestures for the President to sit._

 _He sits down beside the other man and reaches back for the laptop that one of the aides brought with. He takes it from her and opens it up, booting it up not even five minutes later. As soon as the screen comes up, he reaches into the chest pocket of his uniform and pulls out the data drive. He sticks it in and with a few keystrokes brings up the data on it, but all neatly organized into folders: not just the data on the arena, but also information on Panem's extensive surveillance networks, the treatment of their so-called 'victors' and the treatment of traitors. Other things are listed as well._

 _"First off, mate, I know you blokes began to only recently make contact with the outside world. But... ever since the end of the Apocalypse, have you noticed anything off?" Seph asks, beginning the meeting._

 _The prince frowns at his statement and tries to think. His line has seen much in the aftermath of what the people of Spain have taken to calling_ Fines de Los Días. _The most notable thing though was the sudden retreat of America from world affairs, but his predecessors only considered it because they have to rebuild and recover; America_ was _the lone superpower of the world, after all._

 _He finally looks Seph in the eye and optic. "I will be honest and say that I have heard much. My family line has seen it happen, and well... one thing my great-grandfather noticed was the sudden retreat of America from world affairs. I have seen news archives stating that they have formed a new entity, called the PANEM, but other than that, nothing," he admits. "I take it you have much to tell?"_

 _Seph nods grimly and at once, Oleastro gets a bad feeling in his gut. He has no idea why._

 _The Australian begins to speak, and at once the prince's eyes widen and his mouth falls open at the information he is hearing. From the barbaric treatment of cutting out a traitor's tongue to forcing children to fight one another for entertainment all because their parents and friends wanted them to have a better future, he is sickened. The prince gapes as Seph launches into as detailed a description of the Hunger Games as he remembers, from the Fifty-Fifth Games up to today, and he even outlines the other stuff found on the data drive. He even includes information on the so-called President Snow, who had much of the 'nation' in poverty, save for only 30% of the population._

 _Finally the prince has had enough. He slams his hands down on the table, his eyes not just filled with anger, but positively_ livid _with pure hatred. His shoulders are hunched and he grits his teeth. "How can_ anyone _in their right mind allow such barbarities and such fascists to rise to power?!" he cries._

 _Seph's optic flashes bright red in his own fury. "We know who triggered the Apocalypse, mate. We don't say his name, but he was the one who began it. And his successors gave rise to Panem as they know it. And his name is censored from our history. Just one word tells us who he is: Destroyer," he mutters. "The Destroyer of Hope... And the Destroyer... of Humanity's Future."_

 _He is dead serious as he looks at Oleastro. "But the worst part is the fact that no one aside from the Capitol residence have any knowledge of the past as they know it, and nor do they know about the outside world. Ignorance can lead to history repeating itself if we don't learn from it." He hesitates before he continues. "As for your question... it was their 'President' Snow who allowed it to happen. And that man's lineage_ has _to end, so as to prevent another like him rising and causing_ another _global Apocalypse."_

 _The prince is silent for a moment, then speaks once more. "Señor Matthews... You... How can you be sure that any of this is true though?"_

 _"Mate, I've got footage of all Hunger Games to date, and it's just getting worse," Seph says as he bares his teeth. "This whole bloody slaughter has to end!" He then proceeds to outline the Second Revolution and how it failed, and during the entire time, Oleastro is once again silent, his mouth agape and his eyes wide in horror. Then Seph goes on to talk about Panem's so-called 'allies', or in reality, puppet states controlled by them, and the other nations that rose up after the Apocalypse, save for Great Britain, which is right now, aside from the Confederation and the Swiss Federation, the only real democracy left on the planet._

 _When Seph finishes, the prince is silent as he ponders all that he has learned._

 _From what he has heard, Panem is definitely the worst place to live, despite the liberal changes made by Kane. Especially since its recent history is full of spilling blood, much like ancient Rome used to. Since Spain still has yet to recover fully, if they continue to resist, it is not too hard to guess who would be on the losing side. And he wants to keep his people safe from becoming a puppet state under Panemian rule. His country is full of rich history, and he wants to keep the nation intact. Especially as now they have started to recover._

 _To ally with the Kingdom of France is one thing, but to become a puppet is another. He glances back at Seph. He wonders if the man will do the same thing to him that Panem has done to so many others._

 _Seph glances at him and cocks his eyebrow. "What?"_

 _Oleastro purses his lips as he sits back in his seat. "Let me ask you something, Señor Matthews. How can I be sure you will not turn us into a puppet state like so many others have?" he inquires._

 _The President scoffs. "Hardly the truth, mate! I'm not one to strip a sovereign nation's rights away! Least of all their very right to exist as an independent state. It goes against what the Confederation stands for." He looks at the prince briefly. "So... you can trust us when I say we will respect your nation's sovereignty."_

 _He looks at the President's delegation, and each of them have a grim look on their faces. The woman beside him steps closer and places a hand on his shoulder. "My husband is one of the most strong-willed men I've met. He's never let his ideals waver, and he has indeed shown that he can be trusted on the issue of nations' existence," she says. "And for that matter, we actually have plans to_ restore _the sovereignty of several nations in Asia." A smirk crosses her face. "If that doesn't say anything about our beliefs, then I don't know what else does."_

 _One of the men with Seph finally clears his throat. "Basically, mate, we know how Panem thinks and acts. So we're offering you an alliance, not just for your protection, but also to help us restore the ideals of the so-called old world order. When the world was more open, tolerant of others, and respectful of children's rights, and back when the world was cleaner and greener than this. Our goal is to_ heal _the world. This division and carelessness with our resources has to end, and soon." He pauses briefly before continuing on. "Or else... there will be a point of no return. We're not sure as to when it will be, but it is coming soon. So... we need all the help we can get. And you blokes, alongside the Egyptian Union, are only the first of many peoples we intend to unite. So... the question now is... Are you in?"_

 _Prince Oleastro pauses before he opens his mouth. Everyone is waiting for his response, and he sighs, looking down. "I... I will be honest, señor. I... I am very hesitant about this. Especially as my country has yet to recover fully. But in light of recent events, and in light of all this information... I can safely say that Panem is not going to get our assistance, least of all a foothold here. My people are sick of the fighting, and we wish no conflict until we have recovered sufficient defensive capacity."_

 _He looks up, his eyes hard. "But one thing is clear: we do not tolerate_ any _of the things Panem has done. And we will fight, but on our terms, alongside you to restore hope and decency to the world. I am still slightly doubtful of this, but from what you showed me, it's become clear who's the enemy here. And as such, as the Prince of Spain, of the Oleastro line, I swear to provide you with all the help you request."_

 _Seph is surprised. He has half expected the man to at least say that there has to be neutrality, but to hear this... it's a real surprise. His eye widens a bit as his mouth falls open and he gapes for a moment. Then he regains his composure and smirks. "Mate... you have no idea how happy I am to hear it. I mean... sure I heard it from some sources that you blokes were looking into an alliance, but to hear this is just what we needed."_

 _In truth, Oleastro has been wanting to hear what the man had to say about Panem. And to hear all that detailed information is the backbreaker for him. He has actually been considering an alliance with Panem for some time, but things just haven't added up when they told him about their so-called 'terrorists', and how they threatened the peace of the Capitol and its Districts. So he's played it safe and told them he'd consider the alliance, deftly stretching the timeline until now._

 _Now that he knows the truth, he wants nothing to do with Panem. And when he speaks once more, it solidifies his opposition to the stronger nation._

 _"Matthews, to be an ally of these_ cuntas _would be a fate that dooms my people. All I want is for Spain to recover, and become a prosperous nation once more," he says. "So..." He holds out a hand. "Consider my allegiance yours."_

 ** _End Flashback_**

The President feels the Beast come to a stop in the suburbs near his home. He opens the door and exits the vehicle, heading back to his house.

As the limo drives off, his best friends come out of the house, waiting for him. He smiles as he sees them. "Well, good timing, mate," he says. "I take it the trip back wasn't too much of a hassle?"

"Hardly," Hunter remarks as he leans against the door, folding his arms across his chest. "But we did run across a few Panemian aircraft in the area. They have control of the Azores, so..." He grimaces. "It was a close one. Thank God for the paint scheme the mechanics insisted on!"

Seph nods. "Yeah. We got lucky then."

Martha looks back at the sun rising, now throwing its rays over the subdivision. "By the way, have you reviewed the interviews, mate?" she asks.

Seph purses his lips, but nods. "Yeah. I did. And for one, I am glad we got that footage." He is silent on the last sentence though. _Now I know who_ not _to sponsor..._ he thinks to himself.

His mind is about to drift back to the interviews, but is stopped by his wife's hand on his arm. He looks back at her. "Something's bothering you," she says.

He sighs and nods. "Yeah. I mean... during the first group of interviews, I noticed that one of the girls, the female from Three, she seemed to have regrets about this whole damn thing. She actually said, and I quote her directly, "We tend to take family for granted." That alone shows something that could hint as to America's past coming back to a degree." He grits his teeth. "And then... that woman said something that diffused her feelings. She mentioned about how every tribute, both living and dead, have a role to play in safeguarding Panem's future. If that isn't brainwashing, then I don't know what is."

Hunter growls. "Well, that has to end too."

Martha nods as she looks back at Seph out of the corner of her eye. "Now all we gotta do is prepare for the coming Games..." she hisses.

Seph nods in agreement.

For a moment there is just silence between the foursome. Then, Hunter finally speaks. "Oh, Seph? I got word from some of our assets abroad." Seph looks at his Joint Chiefs of Staff Chairman.

"What's the word, mate?" he asks.

Then, much to his surprise, a smirk crosses Hunter's face. "Well, this I think you'll like..."

He quickly outlines the report, and Seph's eye widens in shock. Martha and Tina look on in shock as well. Their mouths fall open and Martha places her hands on the porch railing, surprised. "You mean to tell me that South America has managed to keep Panem back as well?!" she blurts, shocked.

Hunter nods. "Yeah. Somehow they got their shit together and united into the South American Protectorate, with the aim of defending themselves against Panem's encroaching reach. They've done an amazing job at keeping the blokes back from getting their greedy little hands on the Amazon Rainforest's vast lumber resources." His smirk grows into a full-fledged grin. "Any Panem ship that gets close... is halted in its tracks."

"How?!" Tina asks in surprise.

The JCS Chairman becomes serious as he holds out his tablet, the screen displaying a real-time satellite image of South America. He zooms in on one of the ports, the old city of Rio de Janeiro. Seph and the two women lean in, and Seph blinks his eye in surprise at seeing the large fiery orange lines going from one end of the port entrance to the other. There are multiple, and each one seems to be made of fire. He takes the tablet from Hunter and zooms in further, only for his eye to widen at the realization that those lines _are_ fire, burning on the water in neat, controlled conflagrations. Outside, further away from the port, are Panemian naval ships, clearly unable to get in close.

Seph shifts the location to another, and another, followed by a fourth. And each one has the same thing: ports blocked off by lines of fire, preventing Panem from sailing in.

"Bloody hell...!" Seph whispers. "What are they even _doing?!_ "

"From what I can gather, the Protectorate is using oil slicks to barricade their ports, keeping Panemian ships out. Whenever a Panemian ship comes into range, they set up some kind of slick and contain it using booms. The booms-" Seph zooms in on one of the burning lines and is surprised to see the flames are contained in metal booms, all right. "-are metallic, so they can take a great deal of heat. Anyway, once the booms are containing the slick in front of the ports, they set it on fire, and the ships are forced to back off." Hunter pauses a bit before continuing. "Due to Venezuela possessing large oil reserves, they have decided to use them in an effort to blockade their own ports."

"But wouldn't that drain reserves they could be using for themselves?" Martha asks.

Hunter shakes his head. "Not really. See, Brazil, which is the leading nation in the Protectorate, has vast amounts of sugarcane that can be refined into ethanol. And even before the Apocalypse, they were a world leader in ethanol fuel production and with green energy in fuels. Bad news is since the end of the Apocalypse, their fuel production has plummeted, but recent years have shown it to be returning to pre-Apocalypse levels. Within a few more years, they'll be back to full capacity." He pauses before bringing up data on the Protectorate's fuel supplies. "Brazil has become the leading fuel supplier for the rest of the nation, and as a result it is an economic powerhouse. So they decided to use Venezuela's vast oil reserves as a means to enact a fire line of sorts to keep Panem ships out."

"But wouldn't that hurt their economy?" Tina asks. "It's not like they have planes that can import good they need."

Hunter nods on that one. "That is true, but they have rebuilt their aviation capacity in the years following the South American Wars. The wars also helped jumpstart their aviation capacity again, anyway."

Seph purses his lips as he folds his arms. "So... I wonder though... if they'd be willing to ally with us..."

"Hold on! You have to run it by the others, remember?" Martha reminds him.

Seph nods. "I know. I plan to, but first I need to get an idea for the situation down there. Considering Panem's vast reach... I don't want to take any chances. Even if they have protected the Amazon Rainforest." His eye flicks to each of their faces. "We just got lucky on the Spanish factor." Who knew if Panem did have influence in South America?

Martha's eyes narrow as she picks up on his thoughts. "You can't be serious!" she mutters. "And just as the Games are about to begin?!"

"Better than sitting around and doing nothing, mate," Seph counters. "But you'll be the one going, not me. I have to stay here and keep tabs on things."

Hunter and the others all know what he means by that. Given the Games, he'll need to be monitoring them and gathering data on the tributes for the Days of Remembrance. But then again, they need to give a small subtle message to Panem as well.

As the TV blares in the background, an ad for the upcoming _Gundam_ series, _Mobile Suit Gundam: Genesis_ comes on and Hunter perks up, looking directly at the TV, and then his memories fill with images of the interviews, and an idea forms in his thoughts. A smirk crosses his face.

Seph takes notice and looks at him out of the corner of his optic. "Something up, mate?"

"Hell yeah..." Hunter mutters. "I think I got an idea to get a small message out to Panem... as a whole." His smirk becomes a full-fledged grin. "What if... we broadcast something to them? And not just one time, either? But a whole series..."

Seph's eye widens as his wife and Martha all look at him, then each other, then back at Hunter.

"Mate... Hunter, you're joking, right?" Tina asks in shock.

But he shakes his head. "No, Tina. I'm not joking. This time... we can get something out to them, as well as give a hint as to the rest of the nation that there _is_ an outside world!" Hunter's eyes light up as he outlines his idea, and Seph has to admit, it does sound a bit crazy. But at the same time, he can see the political ramifications behind it. If it gets broadcast out to Panem, then maybe... it could spur them to do more research on the outside world. And it could also drive home a message embedded within the series itself!

He frowns a bit though, running the consequences through his mind. But then again, it is a nonviolent form of protest, so... yes. It could work, even if only for a short time. But it will be the long-term political aspects he has to be worried about. He weighs the risks, but in the end decides that the ramifications can be worked out. He looks Hunter in the eyes.

"Go for it, mate. Get the ABC on it, ASAP." Those words are all he needs to hear. Hunter's grin grows wider. "But _only_ the Australian Anime Network! No other channels... for now, anyway."

Hunter nods and withdraws back into the house.

Seph finally reflects back on one particular part of the interviews, particularly about visiting the moon again. His eye glimmers as a smirk crosses his face. "Boy, will those blokes be in for a big surprise..." he mutters as a smirk crosses his face, reflecting back on Australia's latest achievement in space exploration.. and not for any race either... The moon race...

* * *

 **Later that afternoon...**

 **Male voice:** _The Apocalypse draws near..._

( _The scene shows several ships in Earth orbit, each on bearing the symbol of Panem_ )

 **Male voice:** _And only one young man stands in its way_

( _A darkened shadow steps into the light, revealing a Gundam with reddish armor, gold accents and blue optics under a golden V-fin: the Genesis Gundam_ )

( _The Gundam's cockpit is shown next, with a man dressed in a red and gold pilot suit and helmet with Panem's symbol on the side of it. He has blonde hair and blue eyes, and is of Caucasian descent_ )

 **Male voice:** _Rising from despotism, he and his allies must fight to raise the Earth back to modern civilization._

( _Earth is shown in total ruin, people living and scavenging for useful technology from amongst the ruins of ancient cities long past. It shows five youths standing atop a ruined skyscraper, looking up with defiance on their faces_ )

 **Male voice** : _But there are those who will stand against him and his mission..._

( _Depicts shadowy figures as five new Gundams are shown, each in shadow as well. The scene then changes to the Genesis Gundam battling one of these new machines, only to lose an arm to it before fire engulfs the screen_ )

 **Male voice:** _Only one side will triumph..._

( _Shows the Pan Asteroid National Economic Movement emblem, followed by a red bird like ensign with flames around it: The Mockingjay Alliance._ )

Male voice: _Get ready... for a new Genesis!_

 _ **Mobile Suit Gundam: Genesis!**_

 _Premiering 22 May, 2158 at 2:00 pm on the Australian Anime Network, Channel 45_

Seph watches with a smirk as the ad finally ends and he shuts down the TV. Hopefully it will get the message out to the people.

His comm unit beeps and he grasps it in his hand, holding it up as the screen shows the ID caller. A smirk crosses his face as the line opens and the caller comes into view. "Harald Ott?" he asks.

The German nods his head. " _Da,_ " he says. " _I take it you want us to observe the arena?_ "

"Negative," Seph says. "You get the news?"

" _About the interviews? Hell, that was picked up by our broadcast equipment last night. And they are in for a_ serious _surprise if they come close to our vicinity,_ " Ott replies. His grey eyes glimmer as he runs a hand through his reddish blonde hair. " _Those blokes want to visit it, then they'll have to see that old flag. And maybe with it will come some sort of minor revelation if they see the plaque._ "

"I highly doubt it," Seph mutters as his eye hardens. He sighs. "Look. Just keep an eye on them, okay? And if they start to make serious advances in space exploration, keep me informed if you see advances that could jeopardize our own space projgram."

Harald nods as he salutes. " _Will do, sir!_ "

The comm line goes dark as Seph turns to look in the direction of the Outback...

* * *

 **Oooh boy! Things are starting to heat up, peeps! The AC has just made an alliance with Spain, and now South America is also in their sights for an alliance. And Panem is about to be exposed to the outside world through a subtle, if brilliant, method through television: showing off one of their** ** _Gundam_** **anime series. But will the plan work, or will it go downhill? And what about the Games? With things rolling, now what will happen? And what of this little secret that the AC has in place?**

 **Stay tuned and see for yourself, peeps~!**

 **Ja ne! :D**


	9. Me Against the World

The day is progressing rather well, she notes. She is in the old Boeing as it flies over the airspace of Panem, sneaking by the former Hawaiian Islands and their radar stations out there. The air is tense as she peers out the windows, watching the fighter jets as they fly alongside the bigger plane. Martha's eyes are hard, and she is half expecting a group of Panemian hoverplanes to come swooping in, intent on either shooting them down or forcing them to divert course. The last of the two options she would prefer, but in light of recent tensions she has no doubt that they'd shoot down the old Boeing.

But thankfully nothing is coming in. She knows that things are always on edge, especially given the fact that the rest of the world is still in a Dark Ages of sorts. Her eyes narrow as she peeks out the window.

Martha is far from confident in the plane's safety given how close they are to Panem's borders. But she also knows that South America has held its own for a century against their incursions, and she feels somewhat proud of that fact. The comm beeps and her hand flies to it.

"Go," she says.

" _Madam Vice President, we're approaching South American Airspace. We'll be within range in ten minutes,_ " the pilot reports. " _Also, the President has a message for you. He says it's rather urgent._ "

"I'll take it in here," Martha replies.

The pilot redirects the signal directly to her room, and she takes it on her commset.

"I'm here, Seph," she states.

" _Good... Because we have a situation..._ " Seph says seriously.

* * *

 **(** _The scene shows a small flame before darkness snuffs it out. But a small ember burns..._ **)**

 **Hikari ga tsudzuku... ! (** _The ember is blown away, becoming one of many as the sun begins to rise beyond a war-torn town._ **)**

 **Hikari ga tsudzuku...** **! (** _The light from the sun overcomes the camera and it fills the screen before fading to show the skyline of Sydney and the name of the series._ **)**

 **Yami ga sono tochi o shuchō suru kamo shirenai (** _The image flares before it shows two people trapped in a ruined structure in what was once Shanghai. They are both shaking and are wounded from shrapnel._ **)**

 **Shikashi, kibō wa enjo no te o kasu (** _A pair of explosions rocks the area and they huddle and whimper before someone lifts the debris off the two of them. It is a group of Australian soldiers._ **)**

 **Sekai ga kawaru to (** _The soldiers help the two children to their feet before one of them grabs a grenade and throws it at some bandits coming to pillage. The grenade explodes before the debris falls away, exposing the ruins of Europe, Marshal Sergei Kudryavtsev's image over the continent, King Lawrence III opposing him over Europe as well._ **)**

 **Furui risō wa moe tsudzukeru (** _The scene is engulfed in a bright flash as it shows Korean soldiers storming through city ruins in what was once Seoul, South Korea, carrying Panemian weaponry as rebels fight back desperately. Above them is Ahn Sun Pok, her face twisted into a sneer as she holds her hands upwards, as if mocking the world's helplessness. Behind her is the Panemian Vice President while President Kane is off to the side, gazing at the sky._ **)**

 **Kieru hikarinonakade (** _With a wave of her hand, she commands the forces to open fire on rebel positions. Missiles rain down, the black smoke engulfing the area before it is blown aside by a hoverplane._ **)**

 **Kurayami ga hirogaru ni tsurete (** _The hoverplane is painted in Arabian colors, and on top of the imposing palace is Muthasim V, the sultan. He looks back as it fades to a map, showing the Egyptian Union breaking away from them. But then it shows the country turning a bluish green as it fades to show a new figure in the shadows._ **)**

 **Watashitachi no kibō wa tsudzukudeshou (** _The figure holds up its right arm before it lunges out, coming into the light to reveal Seph Matthews as he swings his beam saber mounted onto his right arm, cutting through a bandit before spinning and cleaving another's gun in two, following up with a left hook leaving him dazed. He turns, his left optics lens flaring red as it engulfs the screen._ **)**

 **Watashitachi ga mada ikite iru kagiri (** _The light fades to show three other members, all of them gathered around in front of the Meldney Complex. To the left is Japanese Empress Yuki Minaguma. To the right is Filipino President Gueo Largina. And in the middle is Taiwanese President Chae Yang Un. Behind them the flag of the Australian Confederation flutters before the camera zooms in on it, only for it to fall away._ **)**

 **Un, hikari ga tsudzuku! (** _The image of Sydney is revealed, above it Seph and his fellow leaders side by side with the sun behind them, the Australian Confederation flag above them all as the series name appears below them._ **)**

* * *

 **Chapter 8: Me Against the World**

 **Location: En Route to Brasilia, Air Force One - Panemian Airspace**

 **Time: 2100 hours**

 **Date: Wednesday, 17 May, 0139 AF (2158 AD)**

"You gotta be kidding me!"

Martha's eyes are wide as she hears the news.

His voice is solemn as he gives the report. " _No. I'm not, mate. They... They did..._ " His tone is filled with anger and she hears him slam his right fist against the wall. She only hopes he doesn't leave a dent in the wall of the office; the last one left a nice-sized hole.

"Seph... What else happened?" Martha asks, trying to bring him back on topic.

She can hear his sigh before he resumes speaking. " _Basically they left the rigs... but they also..._ " She can hear him groan. " _I can't believe they asked us to do this... But... they needed some help in controlling and taking out a rogue general by the name of Wei Feng... We have to work alongside Pok and her ilk, and a group of Panemians..._ " She swears she can hear him grimace over the comm. " _...and they offered us something big. Said that if we help them reclaim the territory... we can have it all. Shanghai...and Hangzhou... along with the eastern coastline..._ "

Now _that_ gets Martha.

"They really offered that?" she asks.

Seph's silence is enough to confirm. " _And... they would let our spies live... all of them. No strings attached,_ " he adds.

"Seph... think this through," she cautions.

" _I have been, Martha. And to be honest... I'm rather repulsed at what they're doing. But... they're also offering something I'm tempted to go with..._ " he admits. " _I'm torn on this whole issue. And frankly, I'd rather eat kangaroo dung than work with those barbarian freaks... Especially after what they did to Vernon._ "

"I understand, Seph, but..." Ever the sharp woman, Martha has seen an opportunity to reduce Pok's control of China and Asia. "Think about this for a moment. They're offering a chance to do what we've wanted to do: reduce North Korea's borders. And that's something we need to seize upon. Any chance to reduce their influence and give people back their hopes and free will over there." She is silent for a moment before she continues. "I know you don't like it, and neither do I. But this means that we can also launch more containment ops if Panem tries to sneak closer to Japan."

Seph is silent for a moment. He realizes she has a good point, but the risks remain. Finally, he sighs and nods. " _You're right, Martha. I'll keep that in mind. But also... I'm not going to sit by and do nothing. I know the Games are going on and all, but I'll have my satlink hooked up so I can at least be aware of what's happening._ "

Martha frowns, knowing the importance of staying behind, but she knows also he needs to get out there to keep an eye on things from Pok's end, and to keep a sharp eye on Panem's forces to make sure they don't try anything. "All right, mate. But be careful. I don't like you going out there at this time..."

The President nods. " _I'll keep that in mind, Martha. I'll be careful._ " He closes the comm and she turns back to the matter at hand.

The plane flies over the old Mexican airspace, but as before, nothing comes out to greet them.

Or so she thinks.

The next thing the Vice President knows, she's thrown back as the plane is suddenly forced to juke to the left. The pilot gets on the comm to her. " _Madame Vice President, I strongly urge you to buckle up and hold on tight! We got Mexis inbound in old jets from Before the Fall!_ " he barks.

Martha scrambles to her feet and gets into the seat closest to her, buckling up as she peers out the window. She can see the lights of the cities within Panem's borders, as well as the faint lights of Mexico as they flicker; Mexico is now a haven for warlords, like that in China. She grits her teeth as the old jets give chase after the Boeing. She watches as the escort jets begin to engage with the Mexican planes, juking and diving, firing missiles or just trying to get locks with their guns.

The bandits - that's what she thinks of them as - attempt to get past the Australian pilots, but they are not as skilled as their opponents. The Australian pilots are far better, having fought against Chinese warlord air forces before. The first jet that is shot down is an old F-5E Tiger, its fuselage battered and beaten with age. The wreckage spirals down and Martha turns her head away. She has other things to focus on.

She braces as the old Boeing jerks to the left, and she hears faint popping sounds as flares are released from the underside of the aircraft as a shrieking sound from behind sends chills down her spine. She knows that sound from her years in the Australian Air Force: AGM-65 Mavericks, an old missile from before the Apocalypse. She is surprised that these guys still have a stash, but she ignores it as she hears the missiles explode upon striking where the flares are. What she does not expect next is a sudden sinking in her stomach as the plane begins to climb, and she hears the familiar sound of a warning siren. She clasps her hands over her ears and then there is a sudden shuddering as the plane rattles from letting loose its payload of sonic explosives. The sound is piercing, and even though the plane has climbed above the projected radius, it still makes her ears ring.

Martha finally removes her hands from her ears and peeps out the window as the plane finally levels off above the combat zone.

She is worried, not just for her safety, but for the pilots too. Even though they are skilled, there are just too many bandits for them to handle.

At least until the pilot comes on.

" _Ma'am... we have inbound bogies. They are stating that they are friendlies, and are coming to provide cover for us so our escorts can resume their job,_ " he says.

Martha presses the comm button on the seat's armrest. "Did they say who they are?" she asks.

The pilot's voice is filled with excitement and relief. " _They did, ma'am. The blokes said they're from the South American Protectorate._ "

That's all the news she needs to hear.

She lets out a sigh of relief as the fighter jets of the South American Protectorate come up beside the old Boeing. She can see that despite their age, the old F-5s are in good shape. They are more modernized, with better electronics suites and more up to date weaponry, but their old airframes are still sound. A huge relief as seeing hoverplanes are limited in their operational ceiling. The planes fly in a circle before they come up alongside, revealing the Brazilian Air Force insignia on their fuselages and wings. Martha watches as the lead plane waggles its wings and the pilot banks to the right, leading the old Boeing into its descent. The large aircraft follows behind the flight of four planes, their escort aircraft coming back alongside them.

The trip takes only an hour to reach the capital city of Brasilia. The city is a mixture of old and modern architecture, some of it from Before the Fall, and some of it After the Fall. It is a unique skyline which shows how much has changed in the years after the Apocalypse War. She isn't too surprised, but what she is surprised at is how many buildings are starting to become overgrown with vines and jungle growth. Or at least the stuff is being kept in check and is shown to be growing to the shape of the buildings, leading to a very natural look, as if the buildings are actually trees instead of man-made structures.

The planes finally arrive near the airport of Brasilia, and the Boeing circles in after getting permission from the air traffic control tower. Unlike beforehand, when Seph went to Spain, this time there is a full group of military personnel assembled to greet the plane as it taxies up to the terminal. A staircase is rolled up to the doorway and the door is unlocked by the Secret Service agents with her. Martha stands up and makes her way out to meet the official coming to greet her.

As soon as she sets foot on the tarmac though, she is surprised to see that a man in his late fifties is coming to greet her. He has tan skin and dark hair with brown eyes, and he is clad in a suit with a single flag pinned to the lapel. He wears no tie, and his face is clean shaven, with sharp features, and his right eye is blind, indicating he is an ex-soldier like Seph.

Martha eyes the flag on his suit's lapel, noticing how it is the same design as the Brazilian one, but it contains an image of the entire South American continent, excluding Mexico. She looks into his eyes. "Director Rubens Belo?" she asks.

The man is silent as he looks her up and down with his one good eye. He doesn't say a word as he steps closer and analyzes her from head to toe. Martha is calm, but wary as she watches him take in her five foot eleven height and muscular build, her long sandy blonde hair and blue eyes, and her poise with a hint of swagger from her years as an Air Force pilot. Finally he holds up a hand. "That's me," he says in thick accented English. "And you are the Vice President of the Australian Confederation, yes?"

She nods and takes his hand. "Yes. I am. Martha Preston."

The Director of the South American Protectorate looks over at the old Boeing, whistling as he takes in the grey color scheme. "I have to admit, to do what you did is incredibly _corajoso*_ in this day and age," he says.

"Well, given the circumstances, it's only necessary, given how few of the world's peoples remain," Martha points out. "And of how selfish some blokes can be." Her eyes harden as she looks in the direction of Panem.

Belo nods his head as he turns and clasps his hands behind his back. "I know exactly what you mean, _Senhora*_ Preston. They have been after our resources for so long, it's not even funny to think about anymore." He looks back over his shoulder at her. "That is why we have enacted the fire defenses of our ports."

She nods as she walks after him. He guides her to a vehicle that looks as if it's been restored from Before the Fall. Much to her surprise, it's an old semi truck that's been converted into a mobile command center. The trailer is armored and the truck itself has had the safety glass replaced with bulletproof glass while the tires and suspension have been modified to handle any terrain. Other features she suspects include an air filtration system and perhaps its own oxygen supply. She doesn't ask though, instead asking why a semi truck in place of a limo or Jeep.

Belo is silent for a moment and sighs. "This was the closest thing we could get to a mobile bunker, given the potential for rebellion in the aftermath of the _Guerra do Apocalipse*._ The first director had it built because we lack enough resources and heavy industry to build a sufficiently deep enough bunker system. And even now we still lack such capabilities. But this has lasted for well over a century, so if it is not broken, why fix it?" he states, looking back at her as the two make their way to the back of the trailer.

"That is a good point. Why do you think we kept that old Boeing?" she remarks with a grin.

He smiles back as he holds out a hand to help her aboard, but she politely waves it off and grabs the edge before flipping herself into the back. Belo climbs up the ladder close to him and the ladder folds up as two agents for the Directorate Protection Commission close the doors behind them. The doors are latched and then lights flicker on, revealing the interior of the container to have been filled with a table, nice flooring, and advanced electronics. A faint hum confirms Martha's suspicions of an air filtration system, and she is motioned to sit down.

Martha takes a seat close to the doors and Belo joins her, sitting across from her.

"I'm sorry if there is no refreshment at the moment," he apologizes, but Martha waves it off.

"No big deal. I can go without for now," she says.

Belo nods and presses a button beside his chair. A screen built into the table flips up to show the driver. "Chavez, take us back," he says.

The driver nods and then she feels the trailer start to move. The screen closes down and retreats into the table as Belo tents his fingers and looks her in the eyes. "So, mind me asking why you flew halfway across the world to see me?"

Martha is silent before she reaches into her pocket and pulls out a flash drive. "I should've brought a laptop, but..." She shrugs helplessly.

The Director frowns as he eyes it before he holds out a hand. She slides it across the table and he grabs it. He opens it and sticks it into a slot on the table as a screen and keyboard pop out of hiding. She is impressed, but keeps it under control as he starts looking through the data, and his eyes narrow. "So... that's it, hm?" he asks. He looks her in the eyes again. "You brought this to us because...?"

"We're seeking an alliance," Martha explains. "Not to destroy Panem, but rather to contain them. We've been having incursions with them until recently, and well... things are starting to become complicated in light of recent events." She quickly outlines the situation and then goes into depth about the reality of Panem and of how most leaders of advanced nations across the globe are ignoring the fact that the world has only so much to give, and even about the Hunger Games. She shows what footage she has recorded, and then Belo is silent.

He purses his lips as he puts his hands in front of his mouth. "I see... We know of the _Jogos Vorazes*_ from observing through hacking their TV broadcasts. And I have to admit... that is something we condone as well. Children are the future, yes? To enact such a bloodsport is going against what they preach."

"Now do you see why we have to enact containment protocols?" Martha asks. "As it stands, we've got an edge in one area, and that is we are able to hurl a thermonuclear fusion explosive-laden ICBM in their direction. We also have been harassing their naval assets into leaving our rigs alone, but who knows how long it's going to be before they change their bloody minds again?" Her eyes are hard as she places her hands on the table. "And a few years back, they attacked several of our floating farms to steal the crops there. We've been also trying to outpace them with advances in weapons tech-"

She is cut off when the Director raises a hand. "I know about your efforts, and don't think that we're ignorant of your little top secret weapon, either. We've seen the results." A smirk crosses his face. "Very clever, developing such a thing."

Her eyes widen. "How did you...?" She is stunned. How does he know about the Eagle Gundam?!

Director Belo smiles. "The ship that was damaged passed by one of the port cities," he says. Then he becomes serious. "But truth be told, we don't know _what_ kind of weapon did it. We know it has to have been some kind of humanoid weapon, but we can only guess at this point in time."

Martha lets out a sigh of obvious relief in that he doesn't know about the Eagle Gundam. "That is true. It _was_ a humanoid weapon. We've been researching stuff like that for years, but so far we've never really gotten past the mecha used by Japan."

"Ah. The Mobile Emergency Cleanup HAulers, yes?" Belo smirks. "I've seen them in use a few times in the news."

The Australian laughs at that. "True indeed." Then she becomes serious. "That's beside the point though. The point is, we need help if we're to contain Panem's forces and keep them from taking what is left of the world's vegetation. Hell... they stripped Papua New Guinea of all its resources, right down to the last blade of grass. We're trying to restore it, but it's not going so well, as a lot of the ground has been contaminated with toxic chemicals."

Belo arches an eyebrow. "You can restore greenery?" he asks, intrigued.

Martha nods. "Yes. We've got a solution that uses nanotechnology to restore trees, plants, grass... basically it was developed to initially replicate lumber, but in light of Panem's incursions and attempts to take our rigs, it's been proven to help clean up massive oil spills via disassembling them at the molecular level. Recent events have shown that it is also possible to use the oil - once it's broken down into its organic components - to rebuild and recreate trees and other flora. These nanobots are called nanobuilders, and we've been using them for a long time now," she explains. "But it takes time to restore trees and whatnot."

"What about fauna?" the Brazilian asks. "Surely you have something for that, do you not?"

Here Martha hangs her head and looks down at her folded hands. "No. We don't. Nanobuilders can't be used to restore complex organisms to life. For that, we need genetic engineering and cloning - which is actually illegal in the Confederation, mate." She is silent for a moment. "I'm sorry."

The rler starts to slow, and Martha looks up as Belo smiles a bit. "We've arrived. We can talk more inside."

The trip inside is uneventful and they finally make their way to the floor where the main living space is.

Not even an hour later, Director Belo stands in front of the window overlooking the city, his eye locked onto the skyline as the moon tries in vain to peek through the clouds that cover this part of the world. For Martha, to see natural clouds and not soot is a vast relief, but it pales in comparison to the natural sky that the Confederation and its allies can see. To see the stars is what makes her smile, and the glimmering lights of the city only make her homesick. She steps closer to him.

"It's quite lovely, isn't it?" he asks her.

"Not as wonderful as seeing the stars glimmering overhead..." Martha remarks as she folds her arms.

Belo smiles, chuckling at her comment. "True. But at least those are natural clouds. I take it it's a lot nicer in Australia, yes?"

Martha nods. "Yeah. At least there we can see the world as it used to be before this whole bloody war..."

The Brazilian nods, his face solemn. "I can agree with you there. That is why we have fought so hard to unify and stabilize the region here: to preserve what little we have left, in this case the Amazon Rainforest. You know how greedy they can be."

Here her face hardens and she clenches her fists. "More than you know, mate. Why do you think we've got a deterrent in place?" Her eyes flick over to his face and she notes how stoic he is.

"Intercontinental ballistic missiles... what abhorrent technology... and yet... in some strange way, a salvation too," he muses. "And to think that if it happens again, there will be no coming back..."

"We know, mate," Martha says as she unfolds her arms. "But in this case, we opted for the most powerful because think about it. We know where their precious Capitol is, and of how defended it is when it comes to overcoming obstacles such as mountains, fortresses built around it, and who knows what else? Only good news is that they don't have defenses against _hydrogen_ missiles." She then becomes uncertain. "Or so we hope..."

Belo looks to her and frowns. "What will you do if this continues?" he asks.

Martha perks up at the question. "Excuse me?"

"What will you do if this barbaric tradition continues?" he asks again. "Will you resort to nuclear war... or take a different approach?"

Here Martha smirks. "Well... we got something else planned that they're striving for. We know they're going to try for the moon again. So... our mission is to beat them there... and show them something long forgotten there." Her smirk becomes a predatory smile. "We know the location of the first moon landings, so... we hope to beat them there and show them the flag of a country long forgotten. As well as reveal to them how important the world is. By seeing it from space, we hope they will see just how fragile our world is in terms of ecology." Her smile fades from her features. "But... we don't know how far along they are on that..."

"I see. You wish to one up them in terms of science. And since I understand you have become fully self-sufficient using technology that the rest of the world lacks, you have an edge there," Belo notes. He looks at her out of the corner of his good eye.

She nods. "Yes. We've mastered nuclear fusion reactor technology, right to where we can put a small one inside a mecha. We hope to use a fusion engine on our spacecraft to propel it into orbit." She cocks an eyebrow. "Why?"

"I was just curious. And to be honest, I'm rather impressed. You've become independent of fossil fuels, and yet you use them still," he muses. "Kind of contradictory, yes?"

"Not really," Martha says as she walks back to the table in the living room of the Director's home. He joins her. "We use them primarily for biodegradable plastics and other goods, not power. The production facilities are powered by nuclear fusion reactors and green energy, so there's no waste being sent into the atmosphere. What industrial waste that _is_ produced we have incinerated in a specialized facility in the Outback," she explains. "It's quite efficient, really."

"Ah. Much like we have become independent of oil as well," Belo says as he sits down and tents his hands in front of his mouth. "We are both strong nations in that regard. But you are stronger in military power. So why do you need our help?"

"Basically, mate, our forces can only do so much, and given how we're going to be occupied for years trying to restore PNG's flora and cleaning up the oil spills, we need someone to help act as a secondary for containment in this part of the world," Martha explains, getting to the point. "Your forces can keep them from coming into port, and any forces that come by land you can barricade and halt at the border. And we promise that we'll provide you with nuclear protection should the need arise."

"And I understand you have an agreement with the Egyptian Union to act as their benefactor as well as with Spain?" Belo asks.

Martha is silent, but nods. She knows he has to have had spies abroad if he knows that. "Yes. The Union is under our protection, as is Spain. Our missiles can cover a far range, so we can keep the Panemians and their 'allies'-" Here her face twists into disgust. "-in check. And if you agree to help us, we can protect your nation's right to exist."

"A guarantee of sovereignty, yes?" Belo muses with a grin.

The Australian VP nods. "Yes. So... are you in?"

Belo smiles. "That is very important in this day and age, is it not, to guarantee a nation's right to exist," he notes. "Panem has many nations under their thumb, and as such they are only puppets. True sovereignty means that a nation is free to choose its own path, become stronger or weaker at the will of the leaders or people. It is up to those that inhabit it to decide the nation's path."

"That is what we plan to restore," Martha says. "But we can only hope to contain Panem's greedy little shits in power for now. So... are you in?"

The Director looks at her with a serious look. "As much as I want to, I have to respectfully decline for the moment. We're keeping them at bay using our firebreaks." She opens her mouth to protest, but he holds up a hand. "But... I will accept your offer of an alliance on the condition that we work together... on our terms."

That throws her for a loop. "And what terms would those be?" she asks, tensing for a possible argument or fight.

"That you defer to us in this part of the globe. We do accept the need for some nuclear protection, and we will do what we can to assist you in containment, but your forces must be willing to defer to us since we know the area better than you do, as well as how to properly trigger said firebreaks," he says.

Martha's eyes widen a bit before she relaxes. "Well... I think we can arrange that. And you do have a point on the firebreaks. I'll talk to the President about this and see what he says."

* * *

 **Location: En route to Darwin, Australia, Australian Confederation**

 **Time: 1300 hours**

 **Date: Thursday, 18 May, 0139 AF (2158 AD)**

Seph's eye darts over to the commset resting against the seat of the helicopter. He picks it up as it beeps again. "Yeah? Go."

" _Seph, it's Martha,_ " comes the familiar voice of his VP.

"Martha. What's going on?" he asks.

" _Well, to make a long story short, the alliance is a go, but on the condition that we defer to the South American Protectorate in their part of the globe,_ " Martha says. " _They insisted on it._ "

Seph purses his lips as he ponders this. The very fact that the alliance is a go is good news, but the condition of deferring to the Protectorate is what unnerves him. Still, he listens as Martha also explains that only the Protectorate knows how to trigger the firebreaks, and after some thinking, he finally addresses her.

"Well, tell the bloke that I have no trouble with it. And that the Confederation will provide support and nuclear protection," he tells her. "Also, inform him that we'd like to open up a trade agreement."

The VP is startled. " _Why?_ " she asks.

Seph outlines the details and explains that the world could always use more green fuels. He tells her that at the rate the world is guzzling petrol and oil, they'll need more sustainable resources before the "Point of No Return" hits. Martha is silent before she speaks.

" _I will. But I doubt he'll be willing to trade so suddenly,_ " she says.

The President nods. "I understand. Once we get things more settled and worked out, we'll get into the nitty gritty of the trade deals."

" _Understood._ " Martha closes down the comm and Seph replaces his commset on the seat as he folds his arms.

He is already thinking of what to do for the trade agreement, but at the same time he is trying to focus on the upcoming operation. He grits his teeth and clenches his right hand into a fist. He finally forgoes the trade agreement and his mind starts to work on coming up with military operations and plans. But his distrust for Panem is far greater than anything. He can stomach working with them (even if it makes him sick), but he doesn't trust them a bit.

And Pok... Her forces may be good, but he is not willing to let those damn commies get the goods, or the upper hand.

His mind drifts back to the newest units assembled for the defense of Taiwan, and he smirks.

Despite having been developed for rescue operations and debris removal back during the initial recovery years back in the early, 0020s, the mecha units of Japan have also been studied and employed in limited military roles, primarily in demolition, explosive ordnance removal and engineering units. But recent technological innovations and advances have led the mecha to be placed in more active roles, sometimes in conjunction with armored and infantry units. This new breed of warfare is a contrast to Panem's muttation-based arsenal, and is in reality more effective as mecha don't need to be fed and cared for, unlike those abominations of Panem's.

The very idea of mecha-based warfare, Seph muses with a grin, is sure to become reality if they can triumph against Wei Feng. As well as show Panem that they are not above everyone else.

Seph can only hope for the best, and that they don't get too curious about the inner workings or technology in the mechas. Or rather in the new Gundam units currently under construction.

His eye flicks over to the side window and he looks out as the port comes into view. He frowns and his optic flares red before he unfolds his arms at the sight of the ships. The massive carrier and battleship are preparing to move out, and he takes note of the planes close by as well. One of them is an old cargo transport plane that has been dubbed Air Force Two after it was heavily modified to be able to handle the role of a leader's transport. The plane has been outfitted with all the necessary components, including living space and a quantum supercomputer that is truly the most advanced thing on the planet, even far more advanced than the ones developed by civilians.

And it is also well armed with visible weapons.

His eye narrows a bit as he hears the pilot coming on over the comm. " _Sir, you sure about this? Given the Games and all... I'd have expect you to stay behind, mate._ "

"Not as long as Pok and her ilk are out there," Seph mutters. "And besides, I'm going out there because I want to show I'm not about to sit back like they do."

The pilot nods, knowing of Seph's desire to show how different he is from the other world leaders of the major remaining nations. Panem... the Union of Sovereign States... The United People's Democratic Republic of Korea... the Caliphate of Arabia... and the remnants of China. These leaders are all about seizing and maintaining their grasp on power, no matter what means they use to keep it.

Seph ticks off his allies, of which there are few. The most prominent is the United Kingdom of Ireland and England, and the Kingdom of France. They are the only two, aside from the Swiss Confederation, that are at least trying to stay true to the ideals of the past. At least the Australian Confederation is making attempts to try and _heal_ the divisions between the world's peoples, no matter how hard it seems. Then there are the newcomers: the Egyptian Union and Spain, who have agreed to assist the AC in keeping Panem's allies in Europe contained, while in South America the Protectorate has agreed to act on containment in exchange for nuclear protection and support.

He sighs. "I just hope our decisions don't lead to another world war..." he murmurs.

His mind starts to flash back to the day he heard of the possible revolution looming in Panem.

 ** _-Flashback-_**

 ** _Location: Sydney, Australia_**

 ** _Time: 1300 hours_**

 ** _Date: 13 May, 0109 AF (2128 AD)_**

 _Seph's eye widens as he stares in shock at the news. "You're bloody kidding me!" he blurts, slamming his hands on the table. "There's a resistance there?!"_

 _His father nods. "Yes, Joseph. The guys up top have confirmed it to be one hundred percent dinky-di. So we can say for certainty that we're going to be offering up training and resources for them."_

 _"And mind me asking what kind of necessity it is to take such a big risk?" Seph presses. "I mean... why do this?"_

 _"Because son, they've had enough. Face it. You've seen the footage thus far. And we've had enough as well," Marcus Samuel Matthews says as he places his hands on Seph's. "Children killing children is going against the very ideals that they spout. They are hypocrites in every sense of the word."_

 _Seph's teeth grit and he looks down. He knows his father is right, but the risks are just too huge. "Dad... the risks are too big. To go to such lengths... it could cause a civil war... and perhaps lead to the end of civilization if it goes nuclear!" he says._

 _Marcus nods. "The government leaders know the risks, but face it. This is the one chance we have to end those bloody barbaric Hunger Games of theirs and to help people regain what was lost. Hope and a better future."_

 _The twenty-year old sighs. "I know that. But this still doesn't feel right..." he mutters. "To risk a civil war and possible end of the world... Is it really worth it?"_

 _Tori Matthews joins her son and husband as she brings their dinner to the table. "Sometimes you have to be willing to fight for your beliefs. And sometimes that means making decisions that are not always the right ones. But in the end, are we not all guilty of doing such things?" she asks rhetorically as she sits down._

 _Seph sighs. As a psychologist, his mother is knowledgeable about many things in how the human mind works, but even she is horrified by the Hunger Games and their influence on the young minds of Panemian youth. She is one of the top experts in Sydney on this issue, so many try to ask her to explain the influence and effects of the Games. Yet she acknowledges that what they do know only comes from refugees and escapees from the Districts._

 _His father on the other hand, is an intelligence official. He is always updated on information regarding Panem, but even he says that there is little more than what they know. And it is this that frustrates him. So to learn of a resistance is a big intelligence breakthrough._

 _"So... what's gonna happen now?" Seph asks._

 _"The big guy up top is going to send troops and weapons over to District 13 so they can begin their training and operations. Once they begin their takeover, then we'll begin to send our forces out as well, or if need be, we'll sling a nuke their way. Which I hope it doesn't come down to," Marcus admits. "But regardless, we're going to assist them in whatever way we can."_

 _Seph nods, but he's getting a bad feeling in his gut..._

 **- _End Flashback-_**

Seph grits his teeth and punches the wall of the helicopter. "Dammit...! If only we'd stuck by our promises!" he mutters. "Then maybe we'd be having a better world on the way."

He feels the vehicle start to descend and he looks out as the pavement is coming up.

The pilot touches down and the door slides open as the engines begin to wind down. He leaps out and lands as the pilot gives the thumbs up.

Seph returns it and smirks as the vehicle's engine spools up and the helicopter lifts off the ground. Once the aircraft is gone, Seph turns and makes his way towards the lone airplane. "All right... Time to move out..." he mutters.

He salutes the military personnel as they form a line for him. He doesn't like it, but it comes with the job. The only concession that was agreed upon was that it was not to be treated as a grand affair, like the other leaders do, especially the dictators. His eye is hard as he boards the old transport plane.

All he can do now is hope for the best...

* * *

 **Location: Brasilia, Brazil - South American Protectorate**

 **Time: 2300 hours**

 **Date: Wednesday, 17 May, 0139 AF (2158 AD)**

Martha is surprised to hear that Seph is finally heading abroad to the combat zone. But she brushes it aside, knowing that he can handle himself in the fighting. It's the possibility of a backstabbing that worries her though.

She turns back to look at the director standing by the window, who has his head bowed.

"Something wrong?" she asks him.

"Why is it that your leader goes out and fights?" Belo asks. "Would it not be better for him to stay in behind his own borders?"

Martha snorts and rolls her eyes. "As if, mate! Seph is not one to sit behind the front lines. He wants to make an impression on his enemies and allies alike, to show that he's no coward for hiding behind the front and that he's willing to risk it all for the ideals of the Australian Confederation!" she remarks. "He's a man who's not stupid. His willingness to go out and fight alongside the troops often is enough to show he means business."

"A man who is willing to risk his own life for his ideals, and not willing to stay behind the front for his own safety? A rare type of individual in this day and age," Belo muses somberly. "Such a person of character... how is it he hasn't fallen prey to the ideals of this world?"

Martha sighs. "He's always had a belief in a better future. But I think once he started watching the footage of the Games... he saw what the world lost. His mother is a psychologist, so she probably taught him some things and he wants to change the way Panem acts towards its youth... or at least try and get them to snap out of their hypocrisy of valuing children's lives while forcing them to slaughter one another in an arena." She looks at the director again as she joins him. "Truthfully though, I believe that it's because he's seen too much on the front lines back during his service. He's seen so much hypocrisy and hatred and greed he just wants to change it."

"Willpower of that sort is inhuman," Belo says grimly.

"That may be true," Martha explains, "but it's _because_ of that willpower that _we_ haven't fallen back into these old ways of thinking. Our country underwent a massive immigration boom and a civil rights movement, so we understand the need for having hope and democracy. Panem and these other countries... they're just sick in their ideals." She grimaces as she looks back at the Protectorate flag on the wall. "And it's time we change that... and soon."

* * *

 **Words!**

 _corajoso -_ gutsy

 _Senhora_ \- Ms.

 _Guerra de Apocalipse_ \- Apocalypse War

 _Jogos Vorazes_ \- Hunger Games

* * *

 **And here's the next chapter, peeps~! :D Expect it to get into some action, soon. :) As well as reference to the Games in the next chapter. :)**


	10. Reasons to Live

" _And it's about time for the next interview of our beloved Victor!_ " the Capitol news broadcaster chirps way too happily.

Seph growls as he punches the side of the plane. "Computer, shut that damn thing off!" he barks.

The rather primitive AI for the plane complies, shutting it down. " _Broadcast terminated._ " flashes on the screen repeatedly. Seph sighs as he looks out the window, watching as the ocean gives way to land. The land being the former country of China and its many states and historic cities. His eye narrows as he ponders the coming fight.

He snorts as he remembers the reports on Panem's recent deployments to the region, including those horrid muttations they call weapons. His optic flickers as he looks down to see a convoy of ships pulling into an old port, the name of which escapes him at the moment. But disembarking the ships are not biological weapons like Panem. His forces are using something different. A smirk crosses his face as he watches the lead war machine exit onto the docks. One of the former warlords here has graciously given his support to the operation, mostly due to the fact that Taiwan has had contact with him for months.

The aircraft banks to give Seph a full view of the base camp being established. Massive amounts of ordnance, weapons, parts, and even fuel are being stockpiled for dispersal to the designated storage sites, and vehicles are moving to the motor pools as men and women of all four nations mill around, getting things set up. His eye lands on the makeshift airfield for the cargo plane, and he notes that one of the cranes has been turned into a makeshift control tower.

The plane begins to descend and he takes his seat. "Time for the battle to begin..." he mutters.

* * *

 **(** _The scene shows a small flame before darkness snuffs it out. But a small ember burns..._ **)**

 **Hikari ga tsudzuku... ! (** _The ember is blown away, becoming one of many as the sun begins to rise beyond a war-torn town._ **)**

 **Hikari ga tsudzuku...** **! (** _The light from the sun overcomes the camera and it fills the screen before fading to show the skyline of Sydney and the name of the series._ **)**

 **Yami ga sono tochi o shuchō suru kamo shirenai (** _The image flares before it shows two people trapped in a ruined structure in what was once Shanghai. They are both shaking and are wounded from shrapnel._ **)**

 **Shikashi, kibō wa enjo no te o kasu (** _A pair of explosions rocks the area and they huddle and whimper before someone lifts the debris off the two of them. It is a group of Australian soldiers._ **)**

 **Sekai ga kawaru to (** _The soldiers help the two children to their feet before one of them grabs a grenade and throws it at some bandits coming to pillage. The grenade explodes before the debris falls away, exposing the ruins of Europe, Marshal Sergei Kudryavtsev's image over the continent, King Lawrence III opposing him over Europe as well._ **)**

 **Furui risō wa moe tsudzukeru (** _The scene is engulfed in a bright flash as it shows Korean soldiers storming through city ruins in what was once Seoul, South Korea, carrying Panemian weaponry as rebels fight back desperately. Above them is Ahn Sun Pok, her face twisted into a sneer as she holds her hands upwards, as if mocking the world's helplessness. Behind her is the Panemian Vice President while President Kane is off to the side, gazing at the sky._ **)**

 **Kieru hikarinonakade (** _With a wave of her hand, she commands the forces to open fire on rebel positions. Missiles rain down, the black smoke engulfing the area before it is blown aside by a hoverplane._ **)**

 **Kurayami ga hirogaru ni tsurete (** _The hoverplane is painted in Arabian colors, and on top of the imposing palace is Muthasim V, the sultan. He looks back as it fades to a map, showing the Egyptian Union breaking away from them. But then it shows the country turning a bluish green as it fades to show a new figure in the shadows._ **)**

 **Watashitachi no kibō wa tsudzukudeshou (** _The figure holds up its right arm before it lunges out, coming into the light to reveal Seph Matthews as he swings his beam saber mounted onto his right arm, cutting through a bandit before spinning and cleaving another's gun in two, following up with a left hook leaving him dazed. He turns, his left optics lens flaring red as it engulfs the screen._ **)**

 **Watashitachi ga mada ikite iru kagiri (** _The light fades to show three other members, all of them gathered around in front of the Meldney Complex. To the left is Japanese Empress Yuki Minaguma. To the right is Filipino President Gueo Largina. And in the middle is Taiwanese President Chae Yang Un. Behind them the flag of the Australian Confederation flutters before the camera zooms in on it, only for it to fall away._ **)**

 **Un, hikari ga tsudzuku! (** _The image of Sydney is revealed, above it Seph and his fellow leaders side by side with the sun behind them, the Australian Confederation flag above them all as the series name appears below them._ **)**

* * *

 **Chapter 9: Reasons to Live**

 **Location: Ningbo, China**

 **Time: 1400 hours**

 **Date: Monday, 5 June, 0139 AF (2158 AD)**

The port is busy as ships continue to offload people and machinery.

Seph stands off to the side, his arms folded as he watches the scene with a grim expression on his face. His people are working double time to finish preparing for the operation, and his teeth bare themselves as he remembers the Panemian ships pulling in and offloading their hideous muttations and the people required for caretaking.

A tap on his shoulder catches his attention and he turns to face one of his soldiers as she approaches. Sergeant Noemi Strand is serious as she runs a hand through her grey-green hair and her deep purple eyes hold an expression of disgust in them as she salutes. "Sir!"

Seph returns the salute. "At ease, soldier."

Strand drops her salute and shifts before she pulls out a small data tablet. "We got the full armaments for our 'allies' listed, sir. And I have to admit, seeing those horrid abominations makes me sick to my stomach," she says.

The President nods. "I know just how you feel, mate," he replies. "But right now we got a mission to do, and as much as I hate to admit it, this is the only way to gain that much territory." He snorts. "They think we're neoliberal pigs, but they're wrong about us. We did what we had to do in order to keep those resources safe from their gluttony."

"Those idiots getting on your nerves?" the soldier asks.

Seph is silent, but the way his optic flares indicates his anger. "More than you know..." he mutters to himself.

A loud thundering footstep catches their attention and both the President and sergeant whirl to face the source of the footstep, and a smirk crosses Seph's grizzled features. "But those blokes have got nothing on this," he remarks.

"Especially as we're going one step forward into the future," Seph continues as he watches the machine head into the middle of a group of them standing in a row.

"You sure though, sir? I mean... we're saving these for something important, right?" Sergeant Strand asks nervously.

"Mate, I can get where you're coming from, but truthfully we'll be needing them sooner than we thought," Seph murmurs. "Especially given the kind of artillery Wei possesses."

His teeth grit as he shifts his weight. "As well as show Panem what we can do with _real_ science... Not this... unethical... stuff they call science."

Strand shudders at the memories of the muttations she has seen. "Right..."

Seph finally turns and walks back to the main command center, which is really just a bombed out shell of a former building. He doesn't even care what function the building served initially before the Apocalypse War, but as long as it still stands, it's a place for a command center. He spots the desk in what was once the main entrance hall piled up with images and photographs of the surrounding area. His eye picks out the topmost image. He grabs it and sits down on the metal chair behind the makeshift desk, setting his commset down beside it.

His optic whirs a bit as he sees that it shows the Panemian sector, mostly with their nice, clean and supposedly modern vehicles, along with the muttation storage units in back of them. He can see several of the muttations in question being led into the units, and he grimaces. One of them is clearly an African elephant that's been genetically tampered with to spit venom at its adversaries and to possess a hide that is close to impenetrable. He's seen that one in action before during one of the Hunger Games post-Revolution. He also sees what appears to be a Bengal tiger laced with porcupine spikes across its back and its eyes are like those of a snake. He's heard of this one, but never seen it in action. His gaze shifts back towards a humanoid mutt that has large legs and arms like a gorilla, but has the teeth of a shark and the tail of a scorpion. He remembers seeing that one during the last two Games prior to the 95th Games. That one was the worst, he remembers, as it also has the ability to mimic human voices perfectly.

He tosses it aside into another pile and grabs the next one, starting to take stock of the enemy's munitions.

Seph scans through the images, his gaze taking in the old artillery trucks and tanks. They may have been outdated, but the fact that they still are capable of dealing damage to the Panemians and Koreans alike is testament to the engineering of Before the Fall. He scowls as he sets it aside and picks up a report.

"Hm. So Wei's got some old fighter jets as well..." he muses.

He sets the report down and narrows his eye as he ponders his next move. He knows he could send his forces out ahead of time, but then that would put their plans in jeopardy. They can't afford that at this stage of the game. Not when everything is on the line, and precariously close to a fourth world war.

His commset beeps a few minutes later, and he grasps it. "What is it?" he asks.

" _Sir, it's Ping Zhang,_ " the speaker says. Seph's eye widens as he recognizes the name of the 1st Armored Division's commanding officer. From what he recalls, the division is stationed close to the Panemian sector of the front, with Korean forces off to the left. " _The blokes are getting those horrid mutts ready for deployment._ "

Seph nods. "Thanks for the report. What about the Koreans? Any report on their assets?" he asks.

The screen on the commset flickers before coming online, revealing a battle-scarred sixty-five year old man of Chinese descent with shocking yellow eyes and a thatch of greying blonde hair. His right side is scarred with a series of burn marks from a fight several decades back during an incursion with Chinese warlords, and he has a thick mustache on his upper lip. His uniform is a bit of a mess, but some effort has been taken to clean it up a bit.

" _Aside from their tanks and artillery trucks, nothing real special, although their firearms and ammo are Panemian in origin,_ " Zhang notes. " _But that's just standard for them. No mutts or mecha._ "

Seph nods and purses his lips. "Anything else?"

" _Nothing else that bars reporting, sir,_ " Zhang says as he salutes. " _We're awaiting the deployment of the 2nd Mobile Armored Division now._ "

"They'll be deployed soon. Right now we need to get an idea of the land as well as the layout of the enemy's positions," Seph says seriously. "And as much as I hate to say it, we'll need to get in contact with our so-called 'allies' to confirm the reports from our scout units."

The old general nods. " _Affirmative. We'll be waiting._ " He cuts the line and Seph leans back in the seat, gazing out at the old harbor and the ships of the Australian Navy.

"Wei Feng... Hmm..." He pauses and tents his fingers. "We'll just see how much of a bloody bastard you are... if at all..." Seph mutters.

The hours pass and Seph finally gets a call from one of his officers. " _Sir, it's time. We're preparing to move out,_ " he says. " _We just need the word._ "

The President nods, grasping the commset in his hand. "Right. You have permission to roll out. Expect the 2nd Mobile Armored Division to be arriving in a few hours."

" _Understood, sir!_ " The line goes dead and Seph turns back towards the base, where the new mobile suits are standing by. The machines, dubbed GMs for short by the soldiers and pilots alike, are getting ready to move out. His eye narrows as he watches the first of the new machines start to move, its huge frame moving with somewhat of a graceful motion through the destroyed buildings and surrounding debris.

The other units follow along behind the leading GM.

And as Seph watches, a smirk crosses his face.

Panem is in for a shocker, big time.

* * *

 **Location: ** **Shanghai Ruins******

 ** ** **Time: 1600 hours******

 ** ** **Date: Monday, 5 June, 2158 AD (0139 AF)******

The old building is a mess.

Vines and brush are starting to creep over the remains of what was once a glorious culture, some of the other old structures sinking beneath their own weight. He has to admit, it's not as bad as some other countries, but it still is bad.

His eye is fixed on the monitors showing his forces milling around, trying to prepare for the coming invasion forces. The most troublesome are going to be the Panemians, he muses, given their muttations. The Koreans are nothing too special, but the most unexpected newcomers are of the Australian Confederation, one of those so-called democracies that are trying to supposedly heal the divisions of the world. He snorts at the rhetoric.

Fifty-two years of age and well built, Wei Feng is a former Korean soldier gone rogue. His hair is greying and his eyes are a keen brown color. His uniform is now older and tattered, but he still wears his commendations on his chest, a mark of his skill in the military before being dishonorably discharged for his so-called lack of enthusiasm for killing rebels. He is not that kind of a man, and he only seeks to bring back the old Korean monarchy. But one thing that he _does_ despise, surprisingly, is the Hunger Games, although the idea of having criminals kill one another for sport is far different than having _children_ do it. _That_ part makes him sick.

He snorts a bit as he spies the Australian forces on the edge of his territory. His one good eye, the one not covered by an eye patch, gleams as he looks over their impressive array of tanks and vehicles. Some of them are based on the old tanks from before the Apocalypse; if he didn't know any better, he'd say they _were_ those exact tanks. But the armaments are far different, and some of them even look to be a bit bulkier than the older models. A column of rocket trucks is moving into position for deployment, and a group of Marines is lingering close by to keep an eye on things.

"So, you're preparing now, hm?" he muses. "Well, let's see just how clever and determined you really are..." he mutters to himself.

Wei sneers as he turns away and stands, preparing to address and makes his way down to his own troops as they work on getting things ready for the coming battle.

He makes his way through the old hallways, wandering past men as they scurry to and fro like ants in an anthill. His presence may not be much in terms of height and muscle, but his sheer ruthlessness and brutality more than make up for it. He is known to all as the Ripper, because he tends to rip out his enemies' entrails and leave them to die. But all agree he is a menace to be taken care of.

As he walks past the prison block, he peers inside at the men and women held captive in subhuman conditions. Or at least in comparison to the Old Days. In this new age, it is all about just having shelter over one's head. Luxuries are for the weak. Strong people survive in subhuman conditions and learn to endure and live. Not indulge.

His gaze locks onto one of the women before he purrs lustfully. She recoils in horror and he chuckles as he continues on. He passes by an aide who scurries up to him. "Sir, we have information regarding the invaders," he says. "It's from our scouts."

"What is it, Peng?" he asks the smaller man.

Peng Zhou shifts before handing him a report. "They're getting ready to mobilize, sir. They have their tanks and muttations on station, although one of the scouts reports that the Australians are hiding something big behind their front lines. They cannot deduce what it is, though; just that it's huge and seems to be capable of walking."

Wei frowns. "So, they have some kind of new weapon, hm? Well, no matter. Whatever they possess will be hard pressed to breach our defenses. Even those muttations cannot break them down."

Zhou nods nervously. "As you say, sir."

The ex-Korean general is silent for a moment. "Tell me, Zhou. What is it you think those fools have?" he asks suddenly.

"Why do you wish to know, sir?" the aide inquires.

"Because if I know, then I can prepare accordingly," Wei explains. "So, let me ask you again. What is it you think those fools have?"

Zhou fidgets before he clears his throat. "Well, sir, based on the limited reports, I can only guess as to what it is. But I am guessing that it is some kind of humanoid weapon that has been built for laying siege to their enemies. I cannot say anything more based on the information we have," he says.

Wei is silent before he stops walking. "I see. Well then... they'll be in for a big surprise..." he mutters, a sadistic grin crossing his scarred face.

The men make their way down to the front, which takes a full hour and fifteen minutes. By the time they get there, the fighting is already in full swing. He can see the fighting forces of his men leading the charge, using suicide bombers and heavy artillery trucks. The rockets are shrieking as they fly overhead, slamming into what forces Panem and the Koreans have put ashore. The real trouble though is coming from the Confederation, whose units are fighting with absolute ferocity, taking every building in brutal hand-to-hand combat, using old slugthrowers and modern beam weapons in conjunction with one another. Tanks are following behind the foot soldiers, and further east the large muttations of Panem continue to lead the charge.

He sneers as he watches the elephant muttations struggle to breach the defenses, some of which can stop a tank cold in its tracks. "Fools don't even get it," he mutters. "Those defenses can stop a tank."

Zhou chuckles as the first of the muttations falls to a chemical gas weapon his troops salvaged from an old Chinese bunker. "Your decision to use the weapon from before the Apocalypse has proven sound, sir," he says.

Wei nods with a content smile. "Yes. But..."

His voice trails off as he frowns at hearing what sounds like distant thunder, but not. "It seems the Australians are making their move," he muses.

The first thing he thinks of is one of those old clunkers of a mech that the 'Japanese' first developed during the recovery years following the Apocalypse. While old and loud, the machines have proven to be an asset in battles near the borders. He expects to see a mecha that is old and rusted, barely able to function without massive power cables or diesel stacks on its back, and a standard robot head from one of those old 1950s era comic books, carrying a large war axe on its left servo and a large manipulator claw on the right, large blocky legs and feet.

What he does _not_ expect is to see a barrage of rifle shells blasting past one of his artillery trucks, an ancient Type-83 variant of the old Chinese Type-81 self propelled multi rocket launcher. The shells slam into the ground and explosions rock the battlefield, some of them even flipping over one of his salvaged and refurbished Type-88s. He is shocked as he looks back, only to hear what sounds like turbines. His gaze shoots back to the front, and he gapes in shock as what appears to be a mechanical _man_ emerges from behind a building. Only as it gets closer he can see it is not a mechanical man, but a _mecha_ unlike anything he has seen.

The source is a large machine, humanoid in build and standing at a full 18 meters in height, with grey and dark grey colored armor to better blend in with the surroundings. The head has a tinted glass covering to conceal and protect the main cameras which serve as the optics for the unit. The manipulators at the end of the arms have been built and based off of a human hand, allowing for greater dexterity than with just three large manipulator claws. In these hands rest proper mecha-sized rifles and shields, with a few even carrying rocket launchers salvaged from old warships in the port docks. The machines in question also have twin 60mm Vulcan cannons on the sides of the helm, and possess a jetpack to grant them limited flight capabilities.

This is the new General MEChanized Heavy Artillery Unit, or G-Mecha, dubbed GM for short.

"Oh... shit...!" he rasps. "What in the name of Mao Zedong is _that_?!"

* * *

Within the cockpit of the lead GM, Major Heng Bai grins widely.

"Oh, hell yeah!" he cheers as he brings the rifle to bear on the closest artillery truck. "Now _this_ is the future of warfare!"

He clenches a hand on one of the throttles, pressing in the keys for the firing command. "Eat this, you bastard!" Bai cries as he feels the recoil rattle the cockpit. The twenty-seven year old is grinning like a loon as he presses down on the pedals, gunning it at the same time with the throttles. The roar of his machine's turbines fills his hearing briefly as his machine leaps up, avoiding the rockets and slamming both feet into the truck, crushing it as easily as a bug. He looks up through the monitors, and he notes the shell holes left by his rifle in the buildings; one of them is aflame, so he must've hit a storage facility or something of that nature.

Beside him his main monitor depicts a unit of Panemian muttations and their handlers; it's the Bengal tiger mutts, he notices. His youthful face is marred by a frown as he watches them chow down on a bunch of soldiers of Wei's.

He grimaces as one of the mutts tears out a soldier's intestines, then starts to eat and tear into his stomach. He turns his gaze away from the sight and back to the fighting around him. One of the older tanks is bringing its cannon to bear on his GM, and he snorts. "Think that's the best you blokes got?!" he shouts, squeezing the trigger for the head Vulcans. The bullets rattle as they streak out, striking the ground and tank. The tank's armor stands up to the barrage, and Bai grits his teeth. "Dammit...!" he mutters. He tries again, but the tank guns its engine and speeds out of the way, forcing him to pivot his machine around to keep the tank in his sights.

Bai's red eyes narrow beneath his pilot helmet as he watches the tank before he pulls the trigger for the rifle again. The shell exits the barrel and strikes the tank's left tread. He smirks and is about to fire again, but then a loud explosion rocks him and his monitors are flooded with smoke and red flames from the explosive shell. He screams as his machine slams back against the ground, the cockpit rattling and shaking from the impact. He grits his teeth and looks up to see the cloudy, soot-ridden sky on his monitors.

The soldier grunts as he manages to get his GM back onto its feet, though not without some effort. He snarls as he looks up, his eyes taking on a crimson glow in the light of his screens. "Think that was a good attack?! That was just a cheap shot!" he growls. Bai stands his machine up straight and hefts his rifle before he looks around for the one who attacked him. His gaze searches left and right before his radar beeps and he looks to the screen on his console. The radar is beeping, and he can see that the attacker turns out to be a tank. One that looks like it's been cobbled together from remnants of older models.

He hisses through his teeth before he aims the rifle and squeezes the fire switch not even a second later. The shells fly, and he feels the cockpit rattling with the recoil. He braces against it, also bracing his machine's legs against the recoil of the rifle. The tank he's firing at takes the shells with no trouble, making Bai wonder if it has thick armor. (At the slow rate it's moving though, that's an obvious yes.) Luckily his GM is much faster.

The Chinese-Australian man grips the controls and presses down, slowly making walking motions with his feet on the pedals and the computer translates that into the movement of the legs. The GM breaks into a slow walk, then a jog, and then a run as he watches the tank fire at him. A quick jerk of his controls and the GM darts to the right as the gun expels its shell. The explosion as it hits the ground nearly knocks his machine off balance, but he recovers swiftly and regains control. The tank pivots its gun, but Bai is not about to sit still and get hit. He weaves to the left, then crouches and with a feather touch on the thrusters, leaps up and brings his machine's leg up for a drop kick. He delivers the blow to the tank's turret, crumpling it and crushing it with the sheer mass of his machine's leg. He springs off the devastated tank and lands further away as the tank explodes from the force of the impact.

He hears chattering and cheers over the comms and he stands his GM up straight. He turns to look at the Confederation forces and smirks a bit as they cheer.

Off to the side though, he can see Korean and Panemian soldiers staring in shock.

He can't help it. He feels a bit smug as he triggers the external speakers. "So, you blokes got anything to say?" he asks.

They don't answer. He shrugs and turns back to the fighting at hand. Around him he can pick up the IFF codes of the other GMs of his unit, and he grins. "All right then... time to end this!"

* * *

 **Location: Shanghai Ruins - Panemian Expeditionary Force Sector**

 **Time: 1730 hours**

 **Date: Monday, 5 June, 0095 ADD (2158 AD)**

To say that they are shocked is an understatement.

For Expeditionary Force Commander Atilius Langstrum, this is akin to a hydrogen bomb exploding in his mind.

"Those fools...!" he snarls, his grey eyes hardening into shards of stone. "They've been holding back on us!"

The fifty-year-old Peacekeeper is a hardened veteran of many conflicts, his greatest achievement being in the pacification of District Seven when he launched napalm raids on their forests during the Rebellion. He has earned his rank and his title with merit and cold rational tactics and strategies. But to see this is totally unexpected for him, as he has seen much during his time in service with the Peacekeeper garrisons.

He takes in the sight of the mecha attacking the tanks and artillery units of Wei's men, taking only minor damage, except for when they gang up on these things, he notes with a strict gaze. The machines can take a pounding and just get right back up, resuming the offensive and allowing for their smaller compatriots to swarm inside to take the buildings by sheer determination and force. He knows of how hard the 'Confederation's' forces can fight, but to see it is a whole other story.

The mutt divisions, on the other hand, are not doing so well.

The Thorny-Elephants are failing to breach the tank defenses and the Bengal Scorpios are unable to get past the first line of soldiers. The only ones that are even having _any_ signs of success are the Gorillazos, and even then it's limited.

The Koreans are doing better, relying on their experience and better artillery to breach the defenses of the lines in their sector. The Panemian weapons and ammunition are proving to be superior to the enemy, and even the 'Confederation' is having trouble at times.

And to him, this is an insult. The Confederation is getting past their lines, using their new 'mecha' to their advantage to overwhelm Wei's men and artillery. The very fact though that even the state-of-the-art muttations developed by the military are unable to do much damage is a serious blow. Panem's military is always supposed to be one step ahead of everyone! This is an insult in every sense of the word! No one is better than Panem! Certainly not a bunch of neoliberal fools who cling to old archaic ideals like 'democracy'!

And yet here they are, doing the impossible whereas his units are failing.

He snarls and grips his machine gun, aiming at a nearby soldier for Wei and firing a second-long burst that kills the man.

"Damn them!" he mutters. " _No one_ one-ups Panem like that!"

He will have to report this to his superiors for sure once this mission is done and over with.

The commander turns and barks out an order over the communications line. "All units, prepare to try and rush the left flank! Do not let any of Wei's forces get close to our camp!"

"Yes, sir!" his forces cry enthusiastically. He gets into his command vehicle and the driver guns the engine, pushing the vehicle to its limits as the tanks of Panem start to swarm across the destroyed city's remains. Peacekeepers lead the charge, weaving and dodging as Wei's troops on this sector open fire. Behind him he can hear the ships firing their own shells right for the enemy positions, and above a hovercraft speeds past, dropping a bomb into the middle of a cluster of old vehicles from before the Apocalypse.

Atilius grins beneath his helmet as he holds his rifle high in the air. "PANEM TODAY!"

"PANEM TOMORROW!" his soldiers cry.

"PANEM FOREVER!" they all scream as one.

Their nation's motto boosts their morale, and the soldiers go back on the offensive, their firepower starting to tell against the enemy.

Or it would've, if not for their 'ally's' new weapon.

He thinks about his decision, then snorts. He may as well report it now, while it's on his mind.

The commander tunes the radio to a different frequency, and he hears a familiar voice over the radio. " _What is it? And who is this?_ " the voice of General L. N. Parangosky asks. Her voice is clipped and sharp, carrying with it that distinct Capitolite inflection of the words.

"Madame General. This is Expeditionary Force Commander Atilius Langstrum," he says.

" _Ah! Commander. How goes the mission?_ " the general asks.

"The mission goes well, madame. But... we have hit a bit of a snag," Atilius admits.

" _What kind of snag? A snag is not what we of Panem desire for our military,_ " the woman barks. " _That goes against everything we have done and trained for._ "

"Believe me, I do not wish to admit it, but there _is_ a snag. Well... more like two snags," he says. He glances back at the mecha now laying down suppressing fire for their organic comrades. "The first snag concerns our own military weapons."

" _How can our weapons be a snag?_ " Parangosky asks rather calmly. The calmness sends a shudder down Atilius's spine.

"Our mutts are not performing to expected parameters," he admits. "The Thorny-Elephants are unable to breach the tank defenses. And they have been proven to be susceptible to poison gas, mostly from before the Apocalypse. The Bengal Scorpios are making work of the first line, but if they try to go beyond, they get mowed down by machine gunners. The Gorillazos are proving to be a more formidable force, but even they are being taken out, mostly by headshots from snipers positioned in the building ruins." He pauses. "The military is going to have a field day with the development teams."

Parangosky hums and he hears her fingernails drumming on her oaken desk. " _I see. I will contact the President about this matter. This does not bode well for our reputation and power abroad._ "

"No, madame. It does not," the commander remarks.

" _And what of the second snag?_ " the general inquires.

"The second snag concerns the Confederation," Atilius states as he watches the nearest mecha punch a hole in a building to clear out a machine gun nest.

Now Parangosky is intrigued. " _Oh?_ "

"Yes. It appears they have a weapon that is vastly superior to ours. A machine that is far deadlier than our mutts. It is humanoid in shape, and stands at roughly seventeen, maybe eighteen, meters in height. There are no stacks on it like with prior models of their robot units, and it is capable of limited flight capabilities with a booster pack on the back. It is also capable of being armed with rifles and rocket launchers, and I suspect it has defensive equipment as well. For close combat capabilities, it may have beam swords, and it has 60mm cannons mounted on its helm." Atilius pauses before continuing. "I suspect it is also powered by a new kind of fuel supply. But what really is concerning is that these things can take damage and still keep fighting, although if there is a group of tanks or whatnot ganging up on them, then they can be taken out."

"..." The general is silent. " _...I see... Well, it appears that we will have to consult with the President and the Confederation on this matter._ "

"What do you wish for me to do, madame?" the commander asks.

" _Get video of these things and beam it back to us ASAP. I want our esteemed leader and Vice-President to be aware of this new development._ " The order is clear and concise. The fifty-year-old Peacekeeper salutes.

"As you command!"

The radio fizzles and goes dead as he turns back and grabs a small camera. He activates it and starts recording.

* * *

 **Location: Shanghai Ruins - Unified People's Democratic Republic of Korea Army Sector**

 **Time: 1745 hours**

 **Date: Monday, 5 June, 2158 AD (0139 AF)**

To General Sang Jeong, this is the ultimate surprise.

Sure he's heard of and seen the mecha developed by the Confederation during the recovery years of the Apocalypse, but to _see_ one that does not rely upon diesel fuel is something unheard of.

That, and these things are clearly more durable than the original models he has heard stories of.

The sixty-five-year-old general narrows his eyes as he watches them storm past the defenses of their front, taking out the tanks and artillery trucks before laying down suppressing fire for their smaller allies. He only wonders what else the Confederation has been hiding this whole time.

He ignores it though and continues to direct his troops like the chess master he is. His forces spread out, and some of the units break up to start sniffing out possible hiding places for Wei's men. The first scout unit radios back that they have a large cluster of men in hiding, and that they wish to surrender. He snorts and gives the order to kill.

Gunfire rages not even a moment later.

He only smirks. To think is to get distracted. To do gets results done. That is what the Regime has been teaching the people for nearly a century now, and he is grateful as it means his people have nothing to distract them with. He turns back to the map, taking note of how far the Australians and their forces have gotten. In comparison, he is second behind, and Panem is being held back. A snort of derision escapes him. "So much for their muttations..." he mutters under his breath.

The general perks up as he hears the radio chirp and he grabs it, bringing it online. "Yes, Supreme Leader?" he asks.

" _Is the mission proceeding as planned?_ " Pok asks in her sweet voice, but the general knows she is _far_ from sweet.

"Yes, Supreme Leader," he says with a bow towards the radio. "But out of all our 'allies' assembled for this mission, the Australians have taken the biggest lead. We are just second behind, and Panem has been held back. It appears that the Australians have deployed a new model of mecha for the occasion, and it is much more effective at clearing enemy lines than Panem's muttations," he explains.

" _I see. Panem swore they were more advanced than those neoliberal pigs, and look at what has happened._ " Pok snorts. " _I will be asking them how they could let this sort of thing happen._ "

"A wise decision, Supreme Leader," Jeong replies with the proper devotion. "Your timeless wisdom continues to guide us through the ages."

Pok's voice hums before she continues. " _I expect you to keep me informed of new developments. And make sure those Australians do not go beyond the marked lines on the map._ "

"As you wish, Supreme Leader." Jeong salutes before he turns off the radio.

Now that he has that taken care of, he turns back to the map. His eyes narrow as he notes how close the Australians are getting to the point of boundaries. He has his orders.

He stands up and marches out to greet his soldiers.

* * *

 **Location: Shanghai Ruins - Australian Defense Force Sector**

 **Time: 1835 hours**

 **Date: Monday, 5 June, 0139 AF (2158 AD)**

General Ping Zhang is serious as he watches the fighting raging from his command center in an old apartment complex lobby.

His eyes flick over to the monitor showing the mecha of the 2nd Mobile Armored Division making their way towards Wei's main base. He has to admit, the units have shown their potential in comparison to the older mecha models in use.

Mostly in how durable and sturdy they are.

He is interrupted when an aide bursts in. "Sir, we just got word! Wei's preparing to come out and fight!"

Zhang's lips curl upward. "So, the bloke's making his appearance, huh?" He looks the aide in the eyes. "Prepare to get my command tank ready! I'm going out there!"

"I'd advise against it, sir," the aide cautions. "Wei's going to no doubt have snipers around. Remember the last time someone tried it?"

The general pauses and grimaces. "Oh... Right." He ponders his next move. "Hmm... I got an idea..."

The aide hesitates. "Sir?" she asks. "What are you thinking?"

Zhang looks at the map displaying the fighting units. "If that bloke wants to fight... then we'll fight him. But on _our_ terms." A smirk crosses his face as he looks at the aide. "Get the boys from our 3rd Infantry Battalion to head on over to his location and take up positions for battle. And also send a tank or two over. We'll be catching him off guard this time!"

The aide salutes and runs off to relay the orders.

Now that he's alone, Zhang sits back and folds his arms across his chest. He scowls as he sees the map switch to the Panemian sector of the front, showing their forces taking down a cluster of Wei's men. They're proving to be stubborn, he notes. The mutts however are proving to be ineffective, which makes him hum a little. He pities the ones who developed such monstrosities; no doubt they'll either be executed or Avoxed, he muses grimly. And he feels a slight pang of anger. No one deserves to have their tongues cut out...

A loud explosion catches his attention and he looks up at the monitors. The GMs of the 2nd Mobile Armored Division have been able to breach the last line of defenses, but one of them is missing an arm and its glass optical covering is shattered, exposing the sensitive optic cameras. The next GM to breach the defenses has vaulted over them, landing next to the other and takes up position behind one of the taller buildings. The machine crouches, and Zhang can't help but admire how flexible these things are compared to the older models of mecha. The GM holds its rifle at the ready before it leans out and fires at a cluster of men setting up a rocket launcher.

The rifle's rounds strike the ground close to the soldiers setting it up, but they don't stop. One soldier is killed in a brutal fashion; the others speed up loading the launcher and then they fire it. The rockets shriek as they leave the launcher, arcing towards the lines of the Confederation's sector. His teeth grit as he watches them incoming...

Only to be stopped cold by the anti-rocket batteries around the camp. The explosions fill the air, and Zhang's features are contorted into a sneer. "Nice try, mate!" he chuckles. "But we got a mission, and we're gonna complete it, whether you like it or not!"

* * *

 **And here's the next chapter, peeps! It appears that the Comfederation has sent out a new weapon to assist their forces in taking back territory from a rogue general, and Panem's mutts aren't doing so well. Plus, the've taken an interest in this new weapon... What will Seph do?**

 **Find out next chapter~! ;D**

 **Ja ne~!**


	11. My Immortal

Seph sits at the table in Air Force One, his eye fixed on the monitors in front of him. His hands are tented in front of his face as he observes the scene with the cool, calculating gaze he is known for, and his optic flickers in contemplation. The GMs of the 2nd Mobile Armored Division have completed the objective and captured the enemy stronghold, but Wei has retreated to parts unknown. So he has to be on high alert in case Wei tries something again. He watches as the last of the Panemian Peacekeepers march off towards their landing craft for the journey back to their homeland, and he feels a huge sense of relief.

Pok's forces meanwhile have left a few days before, leaving behind shattered remnants of buildings and decaying bodies. He grimaces to himself as he remembers the brutal, emotionless fighting that Pok's human drones have carried out. They just... the way he can only describe it as machinelike, like they are no longer flesh and blood in origin. He snorts to himself before turning his gaze back to the muttation corpses that are being burned by the Panemian forces as they leave. "No sense in letting us get that information..." he muses, although a small smirk crosses his face.

He knows that the Panemian mutts have failed, and that the nutcases who created them will be punished. His eye softens though as he wonders about their children, and if they will be reaped because of their failures. His smirk fades as he looks down at the flag on his left shoulder, and he slowly touches it, remembering the very ideals that once made America so great. If anything, he wants answers at this stage of the game. More specifically... _why?_

That is the one question that's been bothering him for months now, even before he took office as President.

 _Why?_

What led them to this point?

 _Why?_

What made them forget that children were to be protected, and not punished in such a barbaric fashion?

 _Why?_

Why distort children's minds... _Why? Why?_

 _ **Why?**_

"Why...?" he murmurs. " _Why...?_ "

* * *

 **(** _The scene shows a small flame before darkness snuffs it out. But a small ember burns..._ **)**

 **Hikari ga tsudzuku... ! (** _The ember is blown away, becoming one of many as the sun begins to rise beyond a war-torn town._ **)**

 **Hikari ga tsudzuku...** **! (** _The light from the sun overcomes the camera and it fills the screen before fading to show the skyline of Sydney and the name of the series._ **)**

 **Yami ga sono tochi o shuchō suru kamo shirenai (** _The image flares before it shows two people trapped in a ruined structure in what was once Shanghai. They are both shaking and are wounded from shrapnel._ **)**

 **Shikashi, kibō wa enjo no te o kasu (** _A pair of explosions rocks the area and they huddle and whimper before someone lifts the debris off the two of them. It is a group of Australian soldiers._ **)**

 **Sekai ga kawaru to (** _The soldiers help the two children to their feet before one of them grabs a grenade and throws it at some bandits coming to pillage. The grenade explodes before the debris falls away, exposing the ruins of Europe, Marshal Sergei Kudryavtsev's image over the continent, King Lawrence III opposing him over Europe as well._ **)**

 **Furui risō wa moe tsudzukeru (** _The scene is engulfed in a bright flash as it shows Korean soldiers storming through city ruins in what was once Seoul, South Korea, carrying Panemian weaponry as rebels fight back desperately. Above them is Ahn Sun Pok, her face twisted into a sneer as she holds her hands upwards, as if mocking the world's helplessness. Behind her is the Panemian Vice President while President Kane is off to the side, gazing at the sky._ **)**

 **Kieru hikarinonakade (** _With a wave of her hand, she commands the forces to open fire on rebel positions. Missiles rain down, the black smoke engulfing the area before it is blown aside by a hoverplane._ **)**

 **Kurayami ga hirogaru ni tsurete (** _The hoverplane is painted in Arabian colors, and on top of the imposing palace is Muthasim V, the sultan. He looks back as it fades to a map, showing the Egyptian Union breaking away from them. But then it shows the country turning a bluish green as it fades to show a new figure in the shadows._ **)**

 **Watashitachi no kibō wa tsudzukudeshou (** _The figure holds up its right arm before it lunges out, coming into the light to reveal Seph Matthews as he swings his beam saber mounted onto his right arm, cutting through a bandit before spinning and cleaving another's gun in two, following up with a left hook leaving him dazed. He turns, his left optics lens flaring red as it engulfs the screen._ **)**

 **Watashitachi ga mada ikite iru kagiri (** _The light fades to show three other members, all of them gathered around in front of the Meldney Complex. To the left is Japanese Empress Yuki Minaguma. To the right is Filipino President Gueo Largina. And in the middle is Taiwanese President Chae Yang Un. Behind them the flag of the Australian Confederation flutters before the camera zooms in on it, only for it to fall away._ **)**

 **Un, hikari ga tsudzuku! (** _The image of Sydney is revealed, above it Seph and his fellow leaders side by side with the sun behind them, the Australian Confederation flag above them all as the series name appears below them._ **)**

* * *

 **Chapter 10: My Immortal**

 **Location: Meldney Complex, Australia**

 **Time: 1200 hours**

 **Date: Monday, 12 June, 0139 AF (2158 AD)**

It's been a full week since the operation came to an end, and Seph is just relieved to be back home. He watches as the familiar six-legged structure comes into view as the helicopter blasts through the air at full throttle, its rotors beating at the sky to stay aloft. To see the scorch mark left by the nuclear warhead all those years ago is surprisingly a calming sight, given what caused the Apocalypse to begin with. His gaze roves over the buildings underneath, taking in the trees and windows glimmering in the light from the sun as it inches past the structure. The whole complex is bustling, he knows, and he smiles as the aircraft ascends to one of the landing pads surrounding the complex's 'dish'.

The pilot touches down shortly after and as the rotors spool down, Seph leaps from the door, his hair being ruffled by the rotor wash. He turns and gives the pilot a thumbs up. The man returns it and within minutes the helicopter is airborne, beating a path back to base.

Once the aircraft is gone, Seph turns and makes his way into one of the many elevators leading into the complex. The doors open and he steps inside, crossing his arms as he leans against the wall. "Floor Omega," he says. The system is voice activated, so there's no need for buttons. He closes his eye as he feels the elevator start its descent towards the floor his office is on. (Contrary to popular belief, the Meldney Complex floors are named after the Greek alphabet, so as to make it somewhat unique and to offset how much Australia values the past and long forgotten ideals.)

It doesn't take very long, and once the elevator has reached the target floor, Seph wanders the hallways, greeting soldiers and government workers alike on his way to the office. It only takes him half an hour to reach it in the central building.

He finally enters the office and shuts the door, dumping his bag on the floor and removing the coat he is wearing. He hangs it back up and makes his way to the desk, sitting down and placing his head in his hands. "Dammit..." he mutters. "That was exhausting... emotionally exhausting..."

He rubs his face for a moment before he leans back in his chair.

The door slides open behind him, and judging from the number of footsteps, he knows who it is.

Seph turns in his seat to be greeted by the faces of his best friends, his wife, and his three fellow leaders.

Empress Yuki Minaguma. Taiwanese President Chae Yang Un. Filipino President Gueo Largina. Vice President Martha Preston. Joint Chiefs of Staff Chairman Hunter Jenkins. First Lady Tina Hendricks-Matthews.

With them is also Sister Nina Aleksandrov, the Christian missionary.

"Good to see you back, mate," Hunter remarks with a smirk.

Seph smiles as he gets out of his chair. "Glad to be back, mates," he says, gripping Hunter's hand before the others gather around. His wife gives him a kiss on his cheek and Martha grasps his hand in a firm handshake. Presidents Un and Largina nod while Empress Minaguma gives him a pat on the back and Sister Aleksandrov flitters over to embrace him in a hug.

He feels relieved and at ease around them, as they have been with him since he first started out in this job, and even before then.

He gestures for them to take a seat in the chairs and couches around the office in front of the desk. They slowly take their seats as he sits back down.

"So, the op went as planned?" Hunter asks once all are seated.

Seph nods. "Yeah. We got the territory, and we learned a bit about how Pok's forces fight, as well as about the mutts Panem used." He holds out a data drive and sets it down on the desk. "The elephant mutts are basically susceptible to poison gas from even before the Apocalypse. That means that if we have some hidden away, we can use it. The tiger mutts were easy to wipe out from a distance because their hides can't deflect bullets. And those gorilla ones, while tough physically and able to deflect bullets to their bodies, their heads are vulnerable to anyone with a good enough gun and a sniper scope," he begins.

Hunter frowns as he purses his lips, eyeing the data drive. "And what of Pok's forces? How do they fight?"

The President's optic flares bright red. "That's it. They don't fight. They just _do_. Whatever they're ordered to do, they do it. It's like they're fleshy drones at this point. None of them have any idea on how to actually _think_ like we do. It's like they're no longer human up here..." He taps his temple with a finger. "...where it counts."

Martha frowns. "That's like programming them..." she muses. "Makes me wonder what we really know about Pok's regime and her training system..."

Seph lowers his hand. "The good news though is that we managed to give Panem and the UDPRK a big shocker with our new GMs," he continues. "But something tells me that we've also exposed them to new technology they could use to their advantage."

Un snorts. "Of course. As I have said before, a picture speaks a thousand words."

The President nods in agreement. "I remember those very words, mate."

Largina shifts a bit in his seat. "What of Wei?" he asks in his raspy voice. "Did you get him?"

"Bloke escaped before we could catch him," Seph grumbles. "That guy is sneakier than a snake."

The Empress nods. "I seem to remember him escaping my forces last time we encountered him. But one of the soldiers did manage to take one of his eyes as a reminder of what we can do."

Seph grins. "I remember that one. The bloke still has that old eyeball, doesn't he?"

Tina rolls her eyes as she snorts in amusement. "I don't even see the point in that," she says. "And aren't we straying from the point of this meeting?"

The others all realize she's right and the topic is returned to the meeting at hand. "That aside, we did manage to learn quite a bit. But the most disturbing thing is the fact that mutts were even deployed to this fight," Seph muses. "And based on what we learned, we can safely say we have new information with which to counter them. Bad news though..." His eye narrows and his optic flares. "...they may develop new mutts that we have no counter for, especially after our spy ops were compromised."

"They will be returned though, yes?" Sister Nina asks.

Seph looks at her with a worried expression. "Somehow I doubt they'll be all right, even _if_ they are all returned alive. Panem is not one to underestimate."

The priestess nods. "I am well aware. And I have reason to fear that after your bold and rather risky move to expose the Hunger Games to the world, the Panemians may mount a retaliatory strike at our radar facility."

Empress Minaguma gapes in shock, as do the others. "A _nuclear_ strike?!" she breathes.

Seph grits his teeth. "Dammit...! That's the last thing we need!" he hisses.

Hunter growls as he clenches his fists on his lap. "Blasted arrogant pissies!" he snarls. "What are they even _thinking?!_ "

Tina raises her hands. "Now calm down! We have no evidence to suggest that is even an option for them! For all we know, they may have _considered_ it, but Kane may have shot it down. Truth is, we have no idea as to _what_ they're planning, but we can safely assume that after the Apocalypse, no one is willing to risk a fourth world war," she says. "Kane is the most sensible leader they've got right now, so we have to, as much as I have to say it, put our faith in him if the option for a nuclear strike is on the table there. If no nukes are detected within a few weeks, then we can safely assume that he shot down the proposal."

Minaguma narrows her eyes, but realizes that Tina has a point. She sighs. "Fine. But only because we don't want a fourth war."

Un frowns as he tents his fingers in front of his face. "Hm. That may be the case, but we cannot fully rely upon him. We may have to take action if they do launch a retaliatory strike against the facility in question," he says.

"Like what?" Martha asks as she looks at him. "We can't attack Panem for fear of another war!"

"I know that!" the Taiwanese President shoots back. "I was thinking of doing something that could show we mean business, but not affect Panem directly! You remember that ethno-state in West Africa?"

"Oh, bloody hell no! I don't want to risk war over that!" Seph shouts.

"Just hear me out!" Un pleads. Seph is shocked by the sudden change in his attitude, but he relents and relaxes in his seat.

"Okay. What's your suggestion then, mate?" he asks.

Un begins to explain his plan. Seph notes in mild surprise that it's not as militant as he feared, but is rather more geared towards economic assistance to those who are being terrorized by Van de Kaamp. In short, a discreet effort to show the world _tolerance_ , not hatred and bigotry.

"So that's your plan..." Seph muses, a smirk crossing his face. "Economic assistance to those who need it, and to showcase that we're not above tolerating others. A bit of the past coming back to light."

Minaguma is rather impressed by the plan, as are the others. Even Sister Nina is appreciative. "Nicely done, Un," she congratulates. "It's subtle, but it does show that we are stronger than they are in terms of humanity."

The Taiwanese President nods before he sits back in his seat. He is clearly starting to become exhausted, and Seph notes this swiftly. "Well, we may as well get to the next part."

"Next part?" Hunter asks. "What next part?"

"Have you all been wondering about the circumstances that led to the creation of the Hunger Games?" Seph asks suddenly.

That question throws them all for a loop briefly. "What brought this on, mate?" Martha asks.

"It's been crossing my mind ever since we've started getting intel on them," Seph admits. His eye softens and his optic flickers a bit. "Why? That's the question I want to know. Why do it? Why ignore that children are to be the future? Why ignore the fact that they are not responsible for the adults' crimes? Why make them murder one another?" He finally grits his teeth as his eye hardens into an emerald. "Those are the questions that have been floating around in my mind for some time now."

He looks at each one of them, seeing that they too are confused, and just as curious in their postures and eyes. "And I want answers to them. But mostly _why_? So... I am going to ask that you all be present when I make the call to Kane... or DeWynter." He is silent for a moment. "Because you all deserve the answers as well. And to show that we're as one with this. Not just because we despise the Games, but because we have a belief in a better future... a future we feel needs to come about, even if it takes another war - but without nukes."

His fellow leaders and cabinet members are silent for a moment before they nod. "You're right, mate," Hunter says. "We all do deserve the answers to that. And I have been curious about that from the beginning."

Sister Nina is silent before she nods. "I agree. I wish to know why they sacrifice children in the name of those who claim to be human, but are agents of the devil." Her blue eyes are hard like sapphires. "Because children are sacred and precious. To do what they are doing goes against everything we are as human beings. Those who carry out the Games... are they human, or are they merely puppets carrying out the will of the Snow Dynasty and those who came before HIM?" Her emphasis on the word "him" indicates the man who forced much of Panem into poverty.

Martha purses her lips. "You got a point, Sister. We do need to know."

The other three leaders of the Confederation affirm their agreement.

"All right." Seph presses the comm button for a secure link to the office of the Panem President.

The others gather around him as the screen flickers before it comes online.

As Seph waits, he only wonders who will answer. Some small part of him hopes it's DeWynter so he can hear from the mouth of the snake the truth. The other part hopes it's Kane, so he can hear the story from the man with sense. The Panem seal appears on the screen before flickering to give way to show the visage of Kane, and alongside him is DeWynter, the fag. She has in her arms a small baby, and Seph feels a sense of pity for the child. No child deserves to be raised by that bitch.

" _Ah. President Matthews. To what do I owe the pleasure?_ " Viondra purrs.

"Shut it, fag!" Seph spits out. "I don't want to hear your pleasantries! I'm only calling because I feel that it's time we have one major question answered. And it concerns the Hunger Games."

" _What? Don't you know enough about our sport?_ " DeWynter purrs as she bounces the baby on her hip.

"We know too much about how it works," Seph says, cutting her off before she can speak again. "What I want - no, what _we_ \- " Here he gestures to his fellow leaders and cabinet members. " - want to know is... _why?_ "

" _Why what?_ " Kane asks.

"No. _Why?_ " Seph clarifies. " _Why?_ Why go against the fundamental fact that children need to be protected? But more importantly, why take children and make them kill one another in a barbaric fashion that the world doesn't need?!" He slams his hands down on the desk as he stands up. "Why do it?! Why destroy childhood in those children?! Why didn't the sickos who created the Games use _adult_ rebels, and spare the children?!"

The questions hang in the air.

" _Ah... you seek the reasoning behind the Games,_ " DeWynter murmurs in a sweet tone. " _Well, I'll tell you the reasoning... if you can handle it..._ "

" _You see, Mister Matthews, ours is an elegant system – based on self-sufficiency and the necessity for everyone to do their part. Every Panemian has a duty and every duty has a Panemian ready to perform it. Ever since the conclusion of the apocalypse, this is what we have followed to a tee. Sure, many people at the time – still clinging to their conservative beliefs that led them to all this in the first place – felt a little 'at odds' with this model of governance, although eventually most of them would fall in line after being browbeaten by those with their eyes open enough to see the bigger picture._

" _What's that bigger picture, you inquire? Well, what I just said about duty. To have made the progress Panem has for more than a century, Panemians were and are encouraged to shed selfish desires of the individual and instead diverting them to the collective – that being Panem._ " Viondra's face twists into a sickeningly sweet sneer as she says this.

Seph's optic flares and his eye narrows. "That doesn't answer the question of _why_ use _children!_ " he growls.

"Yes. You claim to be respectful of children, and yet you urge them to kill one another in an arena," Sister Nina interjects. "You are hypocrites in every sense of the word when it comes to that. And other things as well." Her eyes harden into shards of glacial ice. "You claim to be strong, but you steal resources from the weak, those that _need_ them. You do nothing to go green, to save the _only_ world we have. You cut out tongues of people who wish to speak their piece."

" _It is necessary-_ " Viondra is cut off by Empress Minaguma.

" _Necessary_ to cut out a person's tongue?! It's a savage practice that should have been left back in the Middle Ages!" she spits. " _THAT_ is a punishment that marks you as fools!"

"She's right, cunt," Seph sneers. "We're not like you. We may punish dissenters, but we keep them in check through a harsh prison system without resorting to barbarities."

Viondra is shocked at the names she is being called, but she calms herself.

" _Touché, then again someone has to manage it all? Regardless I'm not privy, nor do I want to be to the opinions of foreigners. From what I see and what you see given our current 'spat', our ideology is working,_ " she says.

"Only because you barbarian pissies have squashed any idea of freedom!" Hunter growls out. "People back during the Revolution wanted to _encourage_ what you're stripping away from them! A country that bows to the _will of the people_ like America used to, and like we do! Our government is not perfect, but at least we take the concerns of our citizens into consideration! We've learned from the past, and yet we still embrace it, not ignore it!"

Tina is silent, but then she flips the bird at Viondra. "Can you say that you truly represent the _will_ of the people?" she asks.

" _..._ " Kane is silent as he ponders their words. But Viondra snorts. " _Will? What will? The government is the only will that matters._ "

"Like Adolf Hilter," Seph rumbles. "Or like Joseph Stalin. Or Mao Zedong... or Pok."

" _We take those lessons and apply them to our people... so we can keep our nation growing,_ " Viondra says. " _Of course, every fledging nation has its share of 'rabble-rousers'. After decades of steady growth and constitutional reforms, there still was a vocal few who didn't fall in line – District 13 among others – who still held on to the selfish belief of individuality and 'self-determination'…the very same aspects that led to our ruin over a century ago. They would coerce those who would listen with their beliefs, convincing them that wrestling control from the Capitol for those beliefs would be beneficial. And so, The Dark Days occurred. Thirteen Districts rose up against the hand that fed them and protected them. Unlike so many 'nations' outside our borders who didn't even have two pennies to rub together, you'd think that they'd be thankful the remnants of our governments come together to forge something as grand as our Capitol. But no, it wasn't spontaneous – our uprisings - there have been a series of events leading up to this terrible conflict…Assassinations…Bombings…Strikes and other civil strife…It's things like these that If they were allowed to persist, there wouldn't be a nation in which we would have a semblance to the one that came before it. We would be like all the rest of you._ "

"Only because you blokes never bothered to poke outside your own borders! Contrary to your popular beliefs, a lot of us did survive! Japan and Australia were two of those that were spared nuclear devastation! We still had resources and currency! _We survived the Apocalypse almost intact!_ " Seph snarls. "And what _really_ led to the Apocalypse was _greed_! _Gluttony and selfishness_! Individuality and self determination did play a part, but it was minor compared to what you think!" He sits back down in his seat. "But that still doesn't answer the big question: _why use children?!_ "

" _Well…It wasn't always about the children…Vi, Pax, maybe you two could shine a light on why you settled on youths instead. You did aid in the Games' birth after all_ …"

Viondra looks back to the images of two young children as they appear out of thin air. Seph narrows his eye a bit at the sight. ' _Vi and Pax..._ ' he muses to himself.

" **Madam Vice President, are you sure you want to divulge such information t-** "

" _Please, enlighten our adversaries!_ " the woman orders.

Vi nods. " **Right, very well then."**

" **Throughout the course of the First Rebellion, my colleagues and I at the time put many rebel leaders through various experiments, be they physical, emotional or psychological,** " Pax begins.

" **What I really enjoyed out of all the experimentation we under took was the 'Hunger' experiment – which took all three attributes of our captives and depleted them to their lowest of levels,** " Vi adds.

" **Imagine being confined like an animal, deprived of food and water, hours upon hours of torture from a jabberjay chirping out anguished cries of your loved ones…It was quite the spectacle, wouldn't you say, Vi?** " Pax asks.

" **Oh yes, quite. The 'Hunger' experiment was quite useful in garnering intelligence…but then we thought, 'would someone in this condition kill their fellow rebels just to escape it'?** " Vi intones.

" **And so, under the guise of being pardoned for their crimes and clemency for their families we offered them a way out via the same spectacle that has been played out for nearly a century.** " Here Pax's face is crossed by a sinister grin.

" **Although, adults wouldn't make for a good reminder…So children of the rebels, then the population at large would make for a perfect guinea pig.** " Vi adopts the same grin, and Seph instantly grasps what has happened. His optic flares and his eye widens as he stands up, placing his hands on the desk in a fury.

" **If people just had the bare minimum, cut off from their relatives in outlying Districts, their children taken away from them, they would have no willpower to resist. Some Districts became wise and began besting the others, breeding descent,** " Pax purrs.

" **No will, no spirit –** " Vi murmurs.

" **No unity, the hand of big government dominating your every need –** " Pax replies.

" **It all makes for the perfect tool,** " both say as one.

" _Not anymore. Things are improving and in due time, the Games will be phased out. For once we can focus on building our nation upward instead of focusing on this 'pageant' ninety-nine percent of our lives._ " Kane's words cut them off, and Seph narrows his green eye.

" _I think that's all they deserve in terms of explanation. I'd love to stay and chat, but protocol states that I can't stay near Agesilaus …we have to keep the succession line functional and all. I hope you have all the pilfered materials you desired, Mister Matthews. Because after a little while this conversation and that is all you'll ever have._ " With that, Viondra leaves the room, exiting the screen.

Kane is left alone with the group at last as the two holographic children vanish into thin air.

" _I'm sorry you had to deal with her,_ " he apologizes. " _Frankly... I only fear that if things continue as they are... There will be a war in which there is no return..._ "

"We get the idea, mate," Seph says to him. "Because we only want for the world to _heal_ , not go backwards."

" _Viondra... I hate to admit it... but the corruption of Snow..._ " Here Kane seems to be weighed down by his responsibilities.

"The Snow Dynasty were the earthly incarnation of the Devil," Sister Nina replies. "And those who served under them are nothing but agents of the Devil. Those who also came up with such a barbarity..." Her eyes are now pure glacial ice. "...were the Devil incarnate as well."

Here Kane is silent. "..."

Un looks at the Panemian. "Your heart and mind are in the right place, President Kane. It is those like that _biǎo zi_ DeWynter that are the poison that weakens the spirit. As someone once said, their souls are weighed down by Earth's gravity." He pauses to let the words sink in. "In other words, their sins have weighed their souls down."

Largina coughs a bit to clear the slats in his facemask. "You wish for a better Panem. Then make it so. And if necessary... do what must be done to remove the poison of your nation's spirit."

The comm goes dark as Kane reaches over and presses the button.

There is nothing but silence in the room for a moment. Then, Hunter looks at the others. "Adults not being used... they chose children because it was a means to break their will..." he murmurs, feeling sick. "Cutting off families..."

Sister Nina snorts. "True agents of the Devil, those two..." She turns to face the President, who has his head bowed and he buries his face in his hands.

"Sick... Just sickening..." he murmurs. "How far did they even...?" He grits his teeth and, although he's never shown his feelings before in front of his fellow leaders and friends and family, a few tears escape his eye and he starts sobbing.

To break the will of the people in such a fashion makes him weep.

The truth has now struck home to all of them.

America is truly gone.

There is _no hope_ of its return.

"Seph...?" Sister Nina looks to him. "Are you okay?"

The man doesn't respond.

Tina is surprised as he continues to sob. She finally realizes what has happened.

Seph resolve and will has finally been broken.

Martha and Hunter look at one another before looking to Un, Largina, and Minaguma. The group slips out of the office and into the hallway.

"Man... Seph's really taken it hard..." Hunter murmurs.

"Yes. I fear his will and spirit have been broken," Nina says softly. "The truth that they chose children to break the will of the people and cutting off families... She shakes her head. "Even I am appalled."

"We... Is there anything we can do to help him?" Minaguma asks softly, her eyes filled with worry. "Because we'll be needing him sooner or later to lead us through the upcoming raid and its aftermath..."

"Best bet I can think of is we get some help," Martha admits. She leans against the wall. "But... I just don't know what to do..."

Everyone is silent for a moment as they try to think. Sister Nina looks at the cross around her neck before her hand drifts up to the headband she wears. She slowly removes it and holds it in her hands, studying the twin V-fins in contemplation. As she stares at them, her commset suddenly beeps and she looks at it. The priestess pulls it out, pressing the screen. "Hello?"

" _The will is not the only_ _legacy_..."

The eyes of everyone gathered widen at the feminine voice that issues from the speaker. There is silence before Nina tries again. "Hello?"

"... _that remains of America._ "

"Who is this?" Nina demands.

" _To advance... to move on... to embrace tolerance... and the future..._ "

Hunter suddenly grabs her commset. "Who the bloody hell is this and what's with the messages?!" he barks.

" _America does not die. It only adapts. America still lives on in new nations, those that embrace the past, and seek a future for all. Panem is not God. God exists in all. Trust in hope, embrace the future and learn from the past. The future... is in the hands of_ all _on this Earth. Cooperation is key. The Nations of a world United still exist. But encourage the history. Learn from it. Do not forget the past, nor forget the lessons learned."_

 _"WHO ARE YOU!?_ " Hunter screams.

"..." The voice is silent.

"Dammit..." he mutters, tossing the commset back to Nina. "So much for-"

" _The moon. Answers exist there. Meet with them on the Moon. They will see..._ "

The commset falls silent and a dial tone fills the air.

' _Who's voice was that...?_ ' is the only thought on their minds.

There is only silence.

Martha is the first to speak. "What do we do now?" she asks. "I mean..."

Nina looks at the group silently. Her mind is awhirl with different thoughts and ideas, as well as sources for the voice. But one theory lingers in her mind. It's also the same one that has given them the first two Messages. Her eyes widen as realization strikes home.

"That message... it is the same as the other two...!" she whispers. "It's a Message!"

"Huh?" The group is surprised.

"A Message?" Tina asks. "Like the first two?"

The priestess nods. "Yes." She looks at the others. "I cannot grasp the meaning behind this one, but I do know that it centers around the moon."

"But what about Seph?" Tina blurts. "How do we help him?"

Here Sister Nina is silent. She merely looks down.

For a moment the others fear that she has no ideas. But when she looks up, her eyes are hard and there is a clear resolve in them. "There is something else the Message said. It said 'others embrace the past and who seek a future'." She casts her gaze around at each of the Confederation leaders. "It means those who have seen the light. Our allies."

She proceeds to outline her plan, which is a brilliant one. The good news is that it can be accomplished by comms, which is going to be crucial as they cannot get their allies' leaders to come on such short notice.

Hunter nods. "All right. We'll get everyone on the comm and see what happens."

"However, we must inform them of the reasoning behind the Games using children," Nina adds grimly. "So this way we can be sure we are all on the same page."

Martha nods. "Leave it to me," she says.

Hunter nods as well. "Count me in, too!" she exclaims.

Tina slowly heads back into the office as the others begin their plans. Her part, she has concluded, is to try and talk to Seph until the rest of the plan can begin. Maybe she can help him somehow... even if it is just a minor thing.

* * *

 **Location: Buckingham Palace, London, England**

 **Time: 0530 hours**

 **Date: Monday, 5 June, 2158 AD (0139 AF)**

The last thing King Lawrence III expects is to get a comms message as he is getting ready for his morning schedule. The old monarch shifts in his seat as the terminal on his desk chimes repeatedly. A groan escapes him as he turns it on, grumbling under his breath. "Damn better not be those barbarians..." he mutters.

He activates the hologram projector next to the computer. But much to his surprise, it's not Panem contacting him, but his country's former dominion turned powerhouse. Or at least one of the leaders. He remembers that the woman on screen is the Vice President. Her eyes are filled with worry, but then a smile crosses her face. " _Your Majesty!_ " she exclaims.

"Ms. Preston? Why are you calling at this bloody goddamn hour?" the king asks.

Here she pauses, but then she sighs. " _Long story short, mate... we got a situation..._ "

King Lawrence listens in silent horror as she outlines the discussion with Viondra and the holographic AIs of Vi and Pax. As he listens, he finds he has to struggle to keep the tears from coming, but it does little to quell the fury he is feeling. He grits his teeth and slams his hands down on the desk. "That's _outrageous!_ " he shouts. "Why...?"

Martha grimaces. " _I think I can get an idea as to why, mate..._ " Her voice is soft. " _Because children... have a power that they fear. A power to simply..._ " Her voice cracks. " _They have the ability to force is to focus on their well being and their futures. By stealing them away, they break the will of the people to resist... because then they know that their children are punished for something that the_ adults _did to secure them a better future..._ " She breaks down crying. " _It's sickening..._ "

"Bloody Hell of God..." Lawrence is now disgusted beyond belief. To force children to murder one another all for what they say is to maintain the peace... And at the same time condition them into subservience for their children's safety... It is the utmost horrific fate. It is a fate worse than Death itself. He sighs. "But you didn't call just to tell me this, did you?" he asks.

Martha shakes her head, but she is still crying. He is actually impressed that despite her sadness and hatred, she is still focusing. " _T-Truthfully, Your Majesty... we have a situation. And it concerns Seph..._ "

* * *

 **Location: Cairo, Egyptian Union**

 **Time: 0430 hours**

 **Date: Monday, 5 June, 0139 AF (2158 AD)**

At the same time, Hunter is informing President Aali Wasi El-Ghazzawy of the situation. His eyes are hard as he leans forward on his desk, his simple T-shirt and boxers doing little to hide his somewhat muscular build.

"So that's it, then... they chose children to break the will of the people, because then they'd know that it was their children that would suffer for their decisions. A sinister reverse psychology experiment that conditioned them..." His face is marred by a frown. "I applaud their genius... even if it is disgusting. It is a means that is truly a fate worse than anything. A sadistic means to keep potential rebels in check."

Hunter is shocked by El-Ghazzawy's statement. " _How can you even_ think _of applauding such a hideous outcome?!_ " he blurts.

But the Egyptian doesn't back down. "I'm only saying it from a politician's perspective. But I _do_ hate what the country has come to... especially following the arrival of Iblis himself in human flesh."

The Joint Chiefs of Staff chairman purses his lips as his ally continues. "It's a rather clever, even if hideous, method to suppress rebellion. My country suffered it for a time prior to the Apocalypse, so speaking from a culture with experience in that matter, it's a personal reason for me to say that it only reaffirms our alliance with you. That creature... Viondra... she is an agent of Iblis... the Devil himself." He pauses. "As are those who created the Games. But it seems they have cheated death... and have now taken residence as AIs within the heart."

Hunter nods. " _Yeah. Un called people like her a poison that weakens the spirit. And Largina has said that to remove the poison is the only way to properly move forward..._ " His eyes soften as he seems to deflate. " _And we have another issue... It's Seph._ "

"What about him?" El-Ghazzawy asks, concern flooding his features. "Is he all right?"

The Australian sighs. " _Physically yes... but mentally and emotionally... he's broken._ " Those two words are all it takes.

"They broke his spirit?" the Egyptian whispers in shock.

Hunter nods. " _Yeah. So... we need your help, mate..._ "

* * *

 **Location: Madrid, Spain**

 **Time: 0430 hours**

 **Date: Monday, 5 June, 0139 AF (2158 AD)**

The Spanish prince, Teófilo Oleastro, is silent as he clasps his hands under his chin. The radio he is using to communicate with Empress Yuki Minaguma is an older model, so the conversation is a bit static-ridden, but he is able to get the whole conversation. "Such bárbaros... They seek to use force to keep the populace in line... but..." He grimaces and fiddles with the necklace of his family line.

" _Yes... it is... deous in many ways, Prince Oleastro,_ " the Empress explains. Her voice fizzles with static. " _But... fear that it may be... ars before Panem recovers what was lost._ "

"Hm." The prince narrows his eyes. "Emperatriz Minaguma, I wish to ask you something. If they choose to punish the adults by using children in a murder-fest... is it not a hypocritical statement?"

Here her voice is distorted a bit from static, but it still comes through clearly. " _Yes. It is. But they chose to do so to break their will to fight. Because children have a special ability to force us to focus on a better future. By stripping that future away from them... they are telling people there is no hope. And by dividing people... it only means one thing._ " She is silent, and only the faint hum of a generator in the background is heard. " _They fear it._ "

Oleastro perks up. "Fear what?"

" _It._ " Empress Minaguma coughs before continuing. " _Unity. Spirit. Will. Three things that made America so strong. The will of America. The spirit of hope. And the unity that came from it. They feared... and still do... the power of the human soul._ " She pauses. " _At least I think so. I'm not an expert on the matter._ "

"The human soul..." The prince bows his head in thought. "I see. So... by breaking them, they broke their human spirit."

" _Yes... and they have done the same to Seph._ " The Empress's voice is colored with concern and worry as she says this, and the Spanish prince jolts upright in his seat.

"Say what?!" he blurts.

" _They broke his will and spirit. He... I can only fear the worst if something is not done..._ " Minaguma says softly. " _So... we need your help..._ "

* * *

 **Location: Brasilia, Brazil - South American Protectorate**

 **Time: 0230 hours**

 **Date: Monday, 5 June, 0139 AF (2158 AD)**

Director Rubens Belo is serious as he listens in. His eye is hard like bronze and his face is contorted with rage. "Those... creatures...!" he growls. " So they sought to break the will of the people by using children as those who would pay. A hideous tactic much like those of old Before the Fall dictators would use... only much, much worse."

" _Not just that, but we fear it may get worse if Viondra and her ilk continue to lurk in power,_ " President Chae Yang Un explains. " _It is her kind that is a poison to the heart and spirit._ "

"A poison that must be purged," Belo muses. "But there is another proverb of your people, is there not, that describes how the world was before this whole mess?"

Un nods. " _Yes. Water keeps the boat afloat, but can also sink it. Basically people who elected officials could also remove them from power. As it should be. People have a choice. But without choice, what are we but mere shells? It is free will that makes us decide our futures. Not big government. That is conservative. Liberals are different. We want freedom. Not constant surveillance._ " Un narrows his eyes. " _Like that Orwellian fiction,_ 1984 _, Panem has its nose in everyone's lives. No privacy, no refuge from prying eyes and ears. It is a state where no one is free to think or say what they wish._ "

"But to use children... barbaric in every sense of the word..." Belo growls. "My country only knows through bugging landlines along the border, so... we have no need for satellites like you do."

The Taiwanese leader sighs. " _True... but it helped us bring their national barbarian fest to light in the world's eyes. We need to awaken the world to what is happening so we can bring about another future._ " Un is serious as he leans forward, close to the screen. " _The old generations have long since died. Those that led us to this point in time are dead. We need to bring about a new future. Father's debt, son to give back. We have inherited a debt of inhumanity, but it is now up to the future generations to make this world a better place._ "

Belo nods before he runs a hand down his face. "I know that proverb well. So, let me ask you this. Why do you think they claim the liberals of the resistance were conservative?"

" _To no doubt convince them of the futility of self determination and free will,_ " Un says immediately. " _They are proponents of big government. Liberalism was a key cornerstone of what got us of the Confederation to our current strength and power. Panem has no such credit to itself. Big government... is the enemy here._ "

Here Belo notes the Taiwanese President is tense. " _And it is this enemy that has attacked and broken a man who has served his country for many years._ "

The words throw the Director for a loop. "What?" His eye widens. "President Matthews... was broken?"

Un is silent, but the glimmer of worry and fear is enough to confirm the South American's words. "God..."

" _So, we need your assistance on this matter... We ask you to help us show him what matters..._ "

* * *

 **Location: Paris, Kingdom of France**

 **Time: 0630 hours**

 **Date: Monday, 5 June, 2158 AD (0139 AF)**

In the aftermath of the Apocalypse, with many nations either vanishing or rebuilding, governments changed and altered, some of them becoming rather despotic and bigoted while others returned to their original roots, but maintained ties to the past. Some countries reverted back to monarchies while others clung to their pre-Apocalypse forms before dying off. (To say that the Kingdom of France was one of those that died off is an understatement.)

The current Queen, Sasha la Fleur, is the fourth in the la Fleur family line, a noble family that came into power after the Apocalypse wiped out the current French government.

Her great-grandmother, Queen Annabelle la Fleur, had established the family line after marrying a young soldier and giving birth to a daughter, whom she named heir upon her birth. The la Fleur line prospered and united the shattered country of France under a strong monarchy, ensuring that the bandits and savages of the Apocalypse aftermath would not get to the people. Many people in France had protested the return of the monarchy, but after a hundred and thirty nine years of it, the family had become very well entrenched in French society, and upheld the values of the old French republic, making them the words of their House. Other noble families came into power during the recovery years, but none of them ever became as well established or well known as Maison de la Fleur.

The recovery years led to much prosperity for the kingdom, with people coming to the country to seek refuge from neo-Germanic tribes now wandering Germany's wastelands. The la Fleur matriarch at the time, Monique la Fleur, went out onto the front line and united the peoples coming in with the people that still remained in France at the time, and together they drove back the neo-Germanic tribes, becoming a national heroine and cementing her family's position in power for centuries to come. After the repelled Germanics came together and launched another attack, the Queen went back out to the front lines and died in fierce one-on-one combat with the tribal chief of all the tribes, leaving behind her heir, Vivianne la Fleur, along with her consort, Jacques la Fleur, to take the throne.

Vivianne led the country into a new era of healing and prosperity, becoming more advanced and making contact with Britain once again, becoming close allies once more. After learning of the Confederation's existence from the British monarch at the time, the country entered an alliance with the Pacific powerhouse, keeping in contact with them from time to time. After the near success of the Second Revolution in Panem, the Australian Confederation sought closer ties with the rest of the globe, becoming a United States to Panem's North Korea/Nazi Germany alongside Great Britain.

Annabelle took the throne after her mother stepped down, citing health problems.

Now, as the fourth Queen of the la Fleur line, she governs with wisdom and a cool head. Many people are drawn to her for her charisma and leadership skills, but also due to the fact she mingles with the populace and soldiers on a semi-regular basis. Even President Matthews has said he admires her strength.

At forty years of age, she is far from old, but not young, either. Her blonde hair is starting to grey, and her green eyes, once sharp as glass, are starting to dull, but her body is far from old and decrepit. She is toned from activity with the soldiers, and she is dressed in a looser, less formal style of royal clothing to show she is more open to mingling with the commoners, unlike some of the other noble families under her House.

She is currently sitting in a chair at her desk, observing the terminal screen with a troubled gaze.

Filipino President Gueo Largina is serious as he finishes his explanation. " _Now do you see why?_ " he asks.

The queen looks down. "I see. Such an atrocity..." she murmurs. "And to think it is all to break the will of the people..."

" _Yes. But it is the Orwellian aspect that is most disturbing and sinister._ " His facemask does a good job of concealing his features, but his eyes are filled with nothing but hatred. " _And speaking of disturbing... this revelation has rocked our leader to his core... and we fear he may have had his will and resolve broken by it._ "

"So... you are telling me this because...?" Queen la Fleur lets her voice trail off.

" _We are asking you if you could help us in showing him that America has not died off as he fears._ " That is all he says. But to hear that request throws her for a loop.

"Why can you not do it yourselves?" she asks.

" _Because it has to come from allies and country alike,_ " Largina says. " _Please. We need him... just as he needs us._ "

* * *

 **Location: Sydney, Australia**

 **Time: 1545 hours**

 **Date: Monday, 5 June, 0139 AF (2158 AD)**

While the rest of the Confederation leadership is busy with affairs abroad, Sister Nina Aleksandrov is focusing on matters closer to home.

As she is a well-known celebrity, she is recognizable across the Confederation, and a good number of her flock are situated within Sydney itself. A good 400,000 people live there, and it is they whom she calls.

Word spreads rapidly, and soon almost the whole group turns out within the city bay, gathering close to the Sydney Opera House, and standing atop its pier. They are all gathering, and Sister Nina is at the front of the flock. She wears a small headset with her headband, and a few of her parishioners have brought their musical instruments to the impromptu concert. She can see a few electric guitars and amps, a drum set, a few violins, an electric piano, and a few tubas, flutes, and trombones. She nods to the group as they set up at the front as well. A few bystanders take note of this and start to record it, posting it to AussieNet's largest media website, .

She turns to address her flock.

"I cannot thank you enough for coming. As you are all aware, the Hunger Games have lasted for over ninety years, and will soon reach one hundred years in five years' time. But right now, we have another reason to be here. A reason that harkens back to the founders of the Games."

Her eyes harden. "After the failure of the First Revolution, the Capitol, or Big Brother, as we shall call them, issued an arrest for all resistance soldiers and prisoners. Then they subjected them to inhumane and unimaginable torture, in the guise of... experiments. One of the most hideous was the Hunger experiment, in which they subjected rebels to torture, starvation, and emotional abuse, all while keeping them confined like animals." She pauses for a moment. "And in the duration of that... they pondered whether or not people would turn on one another just to escape it. And they were right, much to our horror. But what really frightened me, and sickened all of us, was the fact that they chose to punish the adults by making their children fight one another. In a way..." She shudders.

"In a way, it is both terrifyingly effective and sadistic as one. It breaks the will of the people... and on top of it, they cut off people from their families and loved ones. They pit District against District in order to divide and conquer. They do not want unity." Sister Nina pauses to take in the varied responses of her flock. Many are truly disturbed, and many look sick to their stomachs. "And their Government is involved in _everything_ they do. Big Brother at its finest."

She takes in a breath and lets it out. "Why they chose children... it's simple in my eyes. Children have a power... a power many do not realize, but we do. The power to think. The power to believe in what they wish. The power to speak their voices as they grow. The power to see into the future. Maybe not in the sense of a diviner, but in the sense that they want _change_. The ability to think and adapt. But it is the power to force us to focus on their futures that makes them so powerful." Sister Nina looks up, her eyes hard as glacial sapphires.

"That is the kind of thing only agents of the Devil, Lucifer himself, would encourage. But it is worse than that. Pax and Vi... they are the Devil incarnate, and therefore have cheated Death by having their likenesses crafted into AIs. And their agents, the Snow Dynasty, and the DeWynter line... they are just as bad, if not worse, than the Devil incarnate," the priestess says. "They have subjugated the nation for far too long and made them suffer for far too long. It is true that Kane wants to end it, but President Un, a powerful ally amongst us, has said that Viondra and her fellow agents are the poison that weakens Panem's spirit. If they continue to exist within the halls of the government, they will continue to distort and poison the hearts and minds of all young children and adults in that nation."

She looks over the assembled parish. "But it has also shaken us to our very core. Our leader... is in a crisis. He has had his will and resolve nearly broken by this revelation. But it is the fear that America cannot be revived that has shaken him so. We need to show him that the third Message does not lie."

At this her flock are shocked. Many whispers start to float around, and she holds up a hand. "Yes, there was a third Message. And it has given us a goal. To strive for the Moon. To meet Panem there, and show that free will can be good for a country. So... I ask you... help me show President Joseph Matthews that the Message does not lie, and that America _does_ still exist, even if in a different form!"

The assembled parishioners all cheer as they raise their hands to show their support. They all grasp their choir books and open them as she does the same with hers. She holds it up to show them the song she has first chosen. They all turn their books to the right song and she gives the go ahead to the band.

She grasps the mike in her hands and begins to sing...

* * *

 **Location: Meldney Complex, Australia**

 **Time: 1600 hours**

 **Date: Monday, 5 June, 0139 AF (2158 AD)**

"Seph... why can't you understand?" Tina asks her husband.

"What does it matter? You heard what the bastards said!" Seph hisses. "There is no hope! America is _gone_ , Tina! Face it! There's no coming back for them! Everything we've fought for..."

His optic flickers as he looks at his right hand. "All for naught."

 **Time, is going by, so much faster than I,**

Tina purses her lips as she shakes her head. "No, Seph. It wasn't for nothing. We've still got something that Panem lacks, and that their Big Brother government hates."

"As if..." Seph mutters, burrowing his face in his hands.

 **And I'm starting to regret not spending all of it with you.**

Tina is silent. She can only comfort him, placing a hand on his metallic shoulder, a worrying sensation filling her heart and soul. Where are the others? Have they succeeded in getting in contact with the rest of their allies, including Britain and the Kingdom of France? Has Sister Nina managed to rally those of her congregation within Sydney?

She bites her lower lip before she hears the commset on his desk beeping.

 **Now I'm, wondering why, I've kept this bottled inside,**

Seph slowly reaches for it and grabs it, activating it. "Yeah? What is it?" he asks somberly.

" _Seph, it's Hunter. Just... calls will be coming in soon. Be ready to receive them. And also be sure to check out Atube._ " Hunter's words are cryptic, and Seph is confused. He just nods.

"Sure... whatever, mate..." he whispers.

 **So I'm starting to regret not telling all of it to you.**

The terminal beeps repeatedly and Seph closes down the commset line and presses the button with his free hand. He looks up and blinks his eye in confusion when he sees several familiar faces appearing on the monitor. "Whu... What?" He looks at Tina, who has to squash a smile of relief. But deep inside she is overjoyed. They have succeeded in their tasks.

The leaders of all their allies are shown on the monitor, starting with Spain's Prince Oleastro and Queen la Fleur of France. Surprisingly the entire Directorate of the South American Protectorate is on the line as well, followed up by the Egyptian Union's leadership. Great Britain's King Lawrence is also on the screen. Adding to the numbers are Largina, Minaguma, and Un, along with Hunter and Martha.

 **So if I haven't yet, I've gotta let you know**

" _President Matthews..._ " The Queen is a bit shocked at his expression of defeat. Oleastro is also concerned.

" _Dios mío..._ " the prince whispers. " _Senor Matthews... You have been better._ "

Seph just snorts. "What do you blokes want?" he asks.

 **You're never gonna be alone!**

Tina fiddles with a second window on the monitor and up comes the AussieNet. She activates Atube, and within minutes he can hear a familiar voice singing. His gaze shoots to the second window, this time showing a live screening of Sister Nina as she is singing with a small number of her flock. Well, if 400,000 can even _be_ considered small.

His eye widens as he looks in confusion at Tina.

 **From this moment on, if you ever feel like letting go,**

" _Senor Matthews, we have been informed of the truth behind the decision to use children... as well as the Big Brother that governs them. So... this only reaffirms our alliance with you,_ " Oleastro says, stunning the Australian.

"What?" Seph is not surprised. But what the prince says next stuns him.

" _And we know, senor. We_ know _about the truth. What the agents of the Devil - Viondra, Vi, and Pax - fear most of all, and why they have taken such barbaric measures to suppress and eradicate it._ "

 **I won't let you fall,**

Seph looks at him directly. "You... _know_ about the truth?" he whispers.

Oleastro nods. " _Yes. And as I have said before... we are with you. They may call us puppets, but we are not. We are a sovereign nation. And we shall prove it._ " His gaze is fixed with fierce determination as he continues. " _And I can safely say that once this gets out to my people... everyone will rally behind you. Many have feared the worst, and after what we have witnessed on what few TVs we still possess... we are even more sickened that before. So, as the Prince of Spain, my line is willing to serve you as an ally._ "

 **You're never gonna be alone!**

He turns to look at King Lawrence. The old monarch's face is grim. " _America has fallen far down in its ideals. What used to be a beacon of hope no longer exists, that much is true._ " His eyes are soft though as he looks at Seph. " _But... in some way, the country itself has not died out._ " He purses his lips as he pauses, becoming thoughtful. " _Seph, let me ask you something. What is it that you fight for?_ "

"What I _fought_ for, sir..." Seph mutters darkly. "What is there to fight for now?"

" _Plenty._ "

 **I'll hold you 'till the hurt is gone.**

The Australian is confused as he looks up. "Plenty? What are you getting at, sir?"

Lawrence looks to the screens of the other allies and members. " _Look around you. Ever since that revelation... there has been a surge in people urging for more drastic measures to cancel the Games. Hell..._ " Here he chuckles. " _My countrymen have been urging me to launch a strike on Panem's Capitol to remove those barbarian Devils!_ " He gestures to outside his office, where Seph can barely see people holding signs depicting phrases such as "Children are the future, not murderers!" and "Down with the Games! Down with Victors!", even one that says "Washington weeps in his grave!" showing an image of a weeping George Washington beneath the words. One notable sign is wandering around, and it makes its way towards the front of the crowd. The phrase on it reads "Dictators deny! Democracy defies!" The image on that sign shows a harsh, shadowy and wispy human hand being crushed by a strong mechanical one, a bright light radiating from the hand itself.

 **And now, as long as I can, I'm holding on with both hands,**

Seph is shocked by the image on that one sign, as well as the words.

The king sees his reaction and chuckles. " _Yes, that sign was made by one of my envoys to your country. He knew about your little mecha projects, so he made that one._ " Then he becomes serious. " _But you do see what that sign says, right? Dictatorships deny. Democracy defies. That is what the world needs to do: defy the dictatorships that are threatening to destroy our world with their greed and gluttony._ "

 **Cause forever I believe that there's nothing I could need but you,**

" _Plus, Monsieur Matthews, as Lawrence has said, zere is still plenty to fight for, oui?_ " Queen la Fleur says. She shifts in her seat and tents her fingers. " _Zat is why we are continuing to fight ourselves, no? Zere is still much zat we can do to heal this world of ours. But in order to do so, we must first start to purge ze rest of the dictators allied with Panem._ "

"What does that have to do with having plenty to fight for?" Seph asks, his eye narrowing.

 **So if I haven't yet, I've gotta let you know**

The queen smiles. " _You have said it yourself before, oui? We fight for the future, a world zat is not dominated by greed, gluttony, and first come, first serve in terms of resources. Isn't zat why you have zose... nanobuilders... to restore greenery to areas Panem and zeir 'allies' have stripped?_ " she asks.

Seph stammers a bit. "Well. yes... but..."

She cuts him off. " _No buts. Panem's reasoning may be hideous and incorrect, but I also understand zat there was a new Message, no?_ " she inquires.

 **You're never gonna be alone!**

"Wait... what?" Seph is confused. "A new Message?"

Queen la Fleur nods. " _Yes. The Message that they have informed me of._ "

Seph is baffled. He's never heard of a _third_ Message at all!

 **From this moment on, if you ever feel like letting go,**

The queen nods at his expression. " _Yes. I have heard it, and I must admit, while vague, it does give an idea of what you need to hear and do._ " She brings up the Message's contents, written in Old French to hide it from Panem's possible observation systems.

Tina smirks as she reads it. She has studied Old French, so she knows what it says, and she rewrites it into English for Seph to read. She hands it to him and he reads it, handing it back with a solemn look on his features.

 **I won't let you fall,**

"I don't know how that can be of help..." he murmurs, looking at the desk.

" _That Message... it talks of hope. In short, we are standing by your side, Monsieur Matthews,_ " the queen says resolutely.

Director Belo nods. " _Yes. And do not think I am alone in this,_ " he says, waving his arms around to showcase the entire Directorate.

 **When all hope is gone**

" _Mr. Matthews. It has become clear to us that there is a graver threat than we realize to our countries. Your confederation has thus far managed to keep Panemian influence at bay, but if they learn they have broken you, you will lose much of your power and influence,_ " one of the other members of the Diectorate says. " _Your resolve cannot be weakened at a time like this, especially after the conclusion of the 95th Hunger Games._ "

"So what? Not like there's anything I can do to convince them to change their damn bloody minds about children being used as an experiment..." Seph mutters.

" _Ah. But there is still hope, yes?_ " a second member of the South American Protectorate Directorate asks, her eyes glinting.

 **I know that you can carry on**

"What hope?! America is _dead!_ " Seph shouts.

" _If it were dead, then would there be any hope left?!_ " Belo insists. " _Look around you, dammit! People are standing up against this atrocity! Britain... France... us, Egypt, etc... all those that remain... that have memories of the past inscribed within their very genes..._ "

" _We still carry on the traditions of old,_ " El-Ghazzawy says gently. " _We have carried on thus far on our own, but together... we know of your ambitions, Seph._ "

 **We're gonna take the world on**

" _What_ ambitions?" Seph asks glumly as he buries his head in his hands. "I can't even... why should we strive to beat them? They've beaten _us_..."

" _Oh, hell no they haven't!_ " Oleastro snarls. " _If you let them get to you like this, then they_ will _have won! Think about this! Why was it you asked us to even become allies?! Was it to let them win? Hell no! We are a country that is proud of its history and heritage, and Panem does not think to let its 'allies' even have any say in the alliance when they are asked to join! They are given no choice!_ "

" _He's right, my friend,_ " Lawrence says. " _We have been establishing our own governments in countries without Panemian influence to keep them from getting those countries... and their resources._ "

 **I'll hold you 'till the hurt is gone**

" _Seph-sama... do not think yourself to be alone in this. We_ all _are horrified at this truth,_ " Empress Minaguma says gently. " _We want only a future that is free from this first come first serve mentality. A future like it was supposed to be before the Apocalypse. A world where we were more tolerant and respectful, and a world where children were respected... not forced to be used a guinea pigs in some sick experiment that's lasted almost a hundred years!_ " Here her eyes harden into bright blue sapphires tinged with icy cold that seems to come from the depths of space.

" _And face it. Even if Kane_ does _end the Games... there will be those that will want them to continue. And those same people only will want to wipe out everyone else to get resources for themselves. In a sense, these two things are linked. And it all comes back to your initial objective: to beat them_ back _to that spot!_ " she adds.

 **Oh,**

"No. There's no way..." Seph begins, but he is cut off by someone else. One of the Directorate members, a man named Ruben Addens, frowns.

" _There is always a way, Mr. Matthews,_ " he says. " _That is why you must remember what it is you fight for. No..._ " Here he shakes his head. " _What it is_ we _fight for._ "

"But that's just it!" Seph shouts. " _There is **nothing** left **worth fighting for!** America is **dead,** dammit!_ "

" _Is it? Or is it just the defeatist in you talking?_ " Addens asks calmly. He tents his fingers as he sits back in his desk.

 **You've gotta live every single day,**

Seph blinks at that. He looks up, confused and insulted. "You calling me a coward, mate?!" he hisses.

" _You're acting like one._ " Addens smirks.

"Well, I'm not!" the Australian growls as he stands up. "I'm just saying-"

 **Like it's the only one, what if tomorrow never comes?**

" _That it's hopeless? I think not. If anything, we've all learned something from this: that America may be gone in Panem, but..._ "

Belo looks to his Director of Suriname and grins. "... _its ideals still live on._ "

Those five words get Seph's attention. He jerks visibly, his eye filling with anger as his optic flickers.

 **Don't let it slip away,**

"I know that!" he blurts.

" _Then why give up?_ " Oleastro asks. " _Don't you wish to see the ideals of America live on, and wish to see a better future?_ "

"Well... yes... but..." Seph is confused now. He raises a hand to his head. "I just... What am I supposed to do now?"

 **Could be our only one, you know it's only just begun**

" _The world is in turmoil..._ " Un says softly. " _Father's debt... son to give back. We must correct this debt. We must_ _work to end this corruptive mindset. The future depends on it._ "

"But what _is_ the future?!" Seph shrieks. "After all that's happened... and now that America's gone..."

Un's eyes harden, but his features soften.

 **Every single day,**

" _Seph, we became allies because we sought protection from Chinese warlords and Korean intrusions. But along the way... our countries discovered much more than a mere commonality for the defense of our borders. Your predecessors sought to do what no one else was willing to do: defend. Defend the ideals of democracy, of decency, tolerance, and respect,_ " he says. "My _predecessors sought to return China to her people: her_ true _people, those of us on Taiwan. Largina's predecessors sought to solidify their presence and defend their people. Minaguma's ancestors sought to defend their lands against encroaching Chinese and Korean opportunists. All of us sought to do one thing: defend what mattered most to us. We all discovered that our lands have one common goal: to bring old ideals back from the dead, and to restore the world to what it once was._ "

" _That's right. Our countries have become closer because of it,_ " Largina rasps. " _We of the Philippines have been in danger ever since America abandoned us in the aftermath of the Apocalypse. So we had to resort to becoming a threat by using older and reliable warships we could salvage. It wasn't easy... but we did it. When our country reconnected with Japan and Taiwan, we were fearful we would be only three, but then your country came in and gave us assistance with driving off Chinese warlord ships. Ever since then, we have been as one alliance._ " His eyes soften for a moment.

 **May be our only one, what if tomorrow never comes?**

" _And now we have allies across the world,_ " Martha finally replies. " _Allies who share the same dream as us... and allies who have seen the light. Many have said that those without much power are nothing but puppets. But we say no. We of the Confederation... No... We of PAST, have made a stand against this new world order, an order many have feared in the past. So now..._ "

Tina blinks in confusion. "Wait. Past?" she asks.

Hunter's image looks at Martha. " _You didn't tell them?!_ " he blurts.

 **Tomorrow never comes**

Martha looks at her boyfriend. " _I thought you were going to!_ " she protests, but is cut off by Un.

" _Not past, Martha,_ " he clarifies. " _PAST. Or... the Pacific Alliance Security Treaty._ " He smirks. " _An alliance of all those against Panem. As the name implies, it is a security treaty that says, as the North Atlantic Charter once said, we will be there for our allies as they will be there for us. If one is attacked, then all are attacked. And... as the name implies in the first four letters of each word, we are an alliance that is dedicated to restoring what the world has lost: hope, decency, respect for our planet, and the respect for children as the future._ " His eyes light up as he sits back in his seat.

 **Time, is going by, so much faster than I,**

"You blokes came up with this without me?" Seph asks. "Then... why do you need me to lead you?"

" _Because it was you who showed our allies the reason for this alliance to begin with!_ " Minaguma snarls, startling the Australian. Her eyes are hard as she sits back in her seat. " _Frankly, as it stands, we need you because it was you who allowed us to become much closer with others that are struggling and are recovering more effectively. Spain we saved from Panem, Egypt joined us because they sought better military protection, and the South American Protectorate became an ally because they know their locale better than anyone else. But we... the original four, came together for one common goal: defense._ "

"So?" Seph mopes.

 **And I'm starting to regret not telling all of this to you.**

" _In short, Seph, it was you who got us together,_ " Oleastro says calmly. " _And it was you who showed us the reason for this alliance. But most of all, we all seek to defend the ideals that many say are archaic, but in reality made the world a better place. Big Brother..._ " He shakes his head. " _That makes me sick._ "

"How can we even hope to fight against that kind of governmental surveillance?" Seph asks.

Oleastro shrugs. " _I can't say._ "

 **You're never gonna be alone!**

" _But that only means one thing,_ " Martha says. " _We can't give up. Or more specifically,_ you _can't give up. You got us to this point. Your predecessors did the same thing. So... don't quit now, mate!_ "

" _She's bloody right!_ " Hunter chimes in. " _We're all in this together, and that includes you!_ "

Tina places a hand on her husband's cheek. "Seph... we're all behind you. So don't think you need to endure this horror alone."

 **From this moment on, if you ever feel like letting go,**

"But..." Seph is cut off as she looks him in the eye and optic.

"We're all horrified and scarred too. But we haven't given up. You gave, and still do, give it your all to bring back the ideals of the past. To return to old 21st century ideals. Isn't that why you became President to begin with?" she asks.

"No... I... I ran because I thought I could make a difference in this world... to try and show the world just what really mattered..." he whispers.

 **I won't let you fall,**

"And that's why you can't give up. You already _have_ made a difference in this world," Tina says gently. "You showed the rest of our allies and their peoples the truth of the Hunger Games, and that also gave Panem a message: that we're not going to sit back any longer. And remember... we got another ace up our sleeve."

Seph just shakes his head. "I don't see how that's gonna show those blokes anything..." he murmurs.

 **When all hope is gone**

"It'll show them that we _chose_ to beat them there!" Tina insists. "And that self determination and individuality can, and _do_ , have a place in this world! We're already far ahead of them in terms of technology when it comes to power sources. So... let's stay focused and reach for the stars."

The President is unsure, but as he looks at his friends and allies, he can see that they too share the same resolve as he used to. Their eyes are not broken, nor are they filled with the greed or arrogance that Panemian leaders have. Their eyes are clear, focused, and driven. Determination resonates in each of their facial expressions, and despite the haggard and weary looks, their faces are still filled with hope.

A hope that still exists despite America's apparent demise.

 **I know that you can carry on**

Tina smiles as she looks at her husband. "We're all with you in this. We all wish to see Panem's sick experiment with children end. The Hunger experiment showed how far they've fallen. But others... others have risen up to show the world a different future. Britain may be one of the Old Nations, but new powers have risen to fill the gap."

" _To be blunt, we are the new powers,_ " Belo replies as he smirks. " _And Panem will see that. There is no place for such greed and gluttony, nor such disrespect. Big Brother is a thing of dictators and other like-minded despots. Not a democracy. We do not have that here. And they will see that it can be a good thing to be an individual and choose your own futures._ " His grin grows wider. " _So do not think it's over._ "

 **We're gonna take the world on**

" _Even if we have to take ze world on to show you zat the ideals of the past can endure, we will,_ " Queen la Fleur remarks. " _I hope it doesn't come down to it, but if it does happen... we'll fight to show zat Panem is wrong in all ways._ "

For once, Seph is shocked. He has not expected his allies to stand together with him, despite everything they've learned. If anything, it's only solidified the bond between them. And as he looks at their faces, a realization strikes him.

 **I'll hold you 'till the hurt is gone**

A realization about the Message.

He turns to watch Sistsr Nina's singing, and as he looks at her face, she seems to sense his gaze and she smiles, holding up her hands as if to show her congregation.

 **I'm gonna be there all the way,**

The words of her song reach out, and slowly, Seph stands and walks towards the window, his gaze fixing on the sky above as the sun begins to set. He can see the light from the rays touching the distant sky, and somewhere out there is Sydney.

His home.

 **I won't be missing one more day,**

The home where he grew up, and the place he retreats to. The city that has defied the odds to remain as it is, and has become more than just a city. With its green energy power grid, the iconic landmarks that have gone green, and the buildings that still stand tall, it's a place that has withstood the ravages of Planet Earth. The very same world that _all_ nations share, regardless of what they feel.

The city has become a beacon.

 **I'm gonna be there always,**

A beacon that is glimmering, a beacon that resists all the dystopian air around the world. A symbol... no. A mark of hope. A future that is on the horizon. A representation of what the world could and should've been.

 **I won't be missing one more day.**

The very city is a vision. A vision that stands out amongst the ruins of the past. A vision...

of hope.

* * *

 **Location: Sydney, Australia**

 **Time: 1615 hours**

 **Date: Monday, 5 June, 0139 AF (2158 AD)**

Sister Nina clasps her hands as she brings the song to a close. Already a large crowd is gathering, word having been picked up via Atube and word of mouth. She wishes to address them, but she feels her messages will be enough.

She gestures for her flock to open to the next song in the Lord's Choir Book. Once they have done so, she clears her throat and the female members of the congregation start the song.

 _Ooh, baby, do you know what that's worth?_

The song reaches out across the pier to the location closest to the city, the Sydney Harbor Bridge. As she sings, people begin to join in of their own accord. And it's not just the people that she has reached.

 _Ooh, heaven is a place on earth_

A news crew from the Australian Broadcasting Corporation has heard of the concert and has arrived to see it in person.

 _They say in heaven, love comes first_

One of the news crew, a woman named Siofra Donaghue, grabs her commset and puts it on as she runs out of the truck with her cameraman right behind her. SHe turns to face him as he brings the device online. Her green hair is a mess and her red eyes are alight as she holds up a hand. "All right! We're set!" she says.

The cameraman, Douglas Barnes, nods. "Okay! We're live in five..." He holds up five fingers and counts down as she adjusts her shirt before standing up.

 _We'll make heaven a place on earth_

As soon as the camera light flicks on, she begins speaking.

"This is Siofra Donaghue of the Australian Broadcasting Corporation. We're currently live here at the Sydney Opera House where Sister Nina Aleksandrov is conducting an impromptu concert. There has been no real word of this, but thanks to the brilliant people who have put up the video on Atube, the word's spread rapidly and now, as you can see, there is a huge crowd beginning to form," she says. "But why is this happening now? That is what we're here to find out."

 _Ooh, heaven is a place on earth_

Siofra turns back to the crowd and the two make their way towards the very outskirts of it. She taps on the shoulder of one of the men, and he turns to look at her. His eyes widen in mild surprise at seeing one of the news anchors for the ABC out and about. "Excuse me. I'm Siofra Donaghue with _ABC._ Mind me asking you a few questions?" she asks.

The man blinks, but nods. "Not at all," he says.

 _When the night falls down_

"I understand that Sister Nina has brought about this impromptu concert. Mind me asking what brought this about?" Siofra asks.

The man shrugs. "Your guess is as good as mine, Ms. Donaghue," he admits. "But from the looks of things, I'll bet you five dollars that it has to do with the Games and President Matthews."

"And what do you think of that?" Siofra asks as she adjusts her commset so the mike is aimed at him.

 _I wait for you and you come around_

"Personally, I think that whatever happened, it really rattled the President, and Sister Nina is really doing her best to rally people so he knows that we're behind him," the man admits. "But I'm just guessing."

Siofra nods. "Thank you for your time," she says.

 _And the world's alive with the sound_

She makes her way across the crowd, spotting another news reporter from _Ten Eyewitness News_ , and one of her former college buddies. The man spots her as well, making his way back towards her. "Siofra?" he asks.

"Narinder? Is that you?" Siofra asks, her eyes lighting up as a smile crosses her face.

 _Of kids on the street outside_

Narinder Jain grins widely. "Bloody hell... it _is_ you!" he cries, embracing her. "I wasn't sure if it was really you or not!"

The Indian-Australian reporter is in his late thirties, and he has bright yellow hair with purple eyes, a contrast that goes rather nicely with her own green hair and red eyes. He pulls away. "What are you doing here?" he asks.

 _When you walk into the room_

"The same thing you are," Siofra says. "Reporting on this concert."

"Well... it's a good thing then," Narinder says seriously. "Because I know why this is happening. I read it on Atube."

 _You pull me close and we start to move_

Siofra blinks her eyes. "What's the reason then?" she asks.

"Basically, mate... it's Panem. They told President Matthews about the reasoning behind the Games and they may have broken his resolve," Narinder admits. His purple eyes harden into amethysts. "That's why Sister Nina called this concert. So she can show Matthews that America hasn't died yet."

 _And we're spinning with the stars above_

The Irish-Australian woman is shocked as she hears those words. "You mean...?" Her voice trails off.

Her old friend nods. "You got it, mate. The poor bloke thinks there's no hope... but not true. So... I have an idea..."

 _And you lift me up in a wave of love_

He outlines his scheme, which is actually very ingenious. She has to admit, it does make sense. It's not only to ask people questions, but to ask them what they feel the Confederation as a whole stands for. Brilliant and subtle, but also direct.

"All right. Let's get to it, then!" Siofra remarks. Narinda nods as he grins.

"C'mon!" He waves with his arm and they make their way deeper into the crowd.

 _Ooh, baby, do you know what that's worth?_

They find a small number of parishioners off to the side, holding their copies of the Lord's Choir Book open to the song, and are singing amongst themselves. The two reporters draw closer to them, getting their attention.

"Excuse us!" Siofra cries. "Would you mind us asking for a few moments of your time for an interview?"

The parishioners look up, their singing fading into the background as it dies off; the majority of the group continues to sing the song in question.

 _Ooh, heaven is a place on earth_

"Not at all," one of the men says as he closes his book. "What would you like to know?"

"We just heard that President Matthews is in crisis. Care to explain what that means?" Narinder asks, playing dumb.

The man sighs. "Sister Nina has told us. That the Devil incarnate has performed sick experiments on brave resistance soldiers during the so-called Dark Days, and that their desire to continue this experiment led to the creation of the Hunger Games... using children as guinea pigs." He clenches his fists. "And that news has drastically shaken our leader's resolve, but... if anything, that has only made us even more determined to show that their decision is morally incorrect."

 _They say in heaven love comes first_

"I see. So, in your opinion, he is having a conflict of faith, right?" Siofra asks, catching on.

"Yes. It's our duty as members of the congregation to Sister Nina to show him that our stance is the right one," the man says. "And that the Lord has indeed blessed us to carry out such a mission."

 _We'll make heaven a place on earth_

"Now let me ask you a personal question. What do you feel the Confederation stands for as a whole after learning the truth about the Hunger Games' creation?" Narinder asks.

The man smiles. "Honestly, I feel that our position and our stance is correct. That the decisions of our founding leaders have allowed us to remain as we are, and to prevent greed and gluttony from consuming our very souls." His face becomes somber as he remembers recent news events. "And as for the Devil... His very flesh and blood will be expelled from Panem's heart and spirit once these barbaric Games come to an end. The Lord will see to that."

 _Ooh, heaven is a place on earth_

They thank the man and move on to another member of the crowd. A young woman with her children is sitting off to the side, holding them close, tears streaming down her face. It's clear she's a recent mother, and the very fact that her children could be stripped from her if not for the Confederation's protection has shaken her. She is an immigrant, having come from Panem during the Second Revolution as a babe. And she is horrified at the truth of the Games' creation.

The two reporters stop close to her, and they hesitate. They do not wish to disturb her, but when she looks up and sees them, she doesn't drive them off. Instead, she beckons and they come to her side.

 _When I feel alone, I reach for you_

"Sorry..." she whispers, "...I know you have other stories to cover, but..." Her voice trembles as she speaks; her Panemian accent is heavily diluted by the prominent Australian accent. "I... I feel it's time that our stories have been told..."

"You're an immigrant?" Siofra asks. suddenly feeling like she insulted the woman by asking that.

The woman nods, but she's not insulted, as her gaze clearly tells: it's more or less filled with hope and resolve.

 _And you bring me home_

"My family came here when I was a baby..." the woman mutters. "We were fleeing the fighting... we came from the area of District Seven. We... We barely escaped with our lives..." She shudders. "My parents told me the story of our escapade, and of how we fled in fishing boats from the District borders to the safety of international waters. They said it was horrible... the way that the Government stamped out any hope... _Destroying their own resources_ to teach us a lesson..."

Narinder sits down beside her and places a hand on her shoulder. "I can understand how that must feel, mate," he says gently. "It's only a mark of their Government's hypocrisy if they do that. They need resources, but then they go ahead and steal them despite having an abundance in their own borders. Nothing but greedy little shits over there in power."

 _When I'm lost at sea I hear your voice_

"I... My parents just wanted a better future... to keep me from suffering such a fate... being thrown into those barbaric Games..." The woman places a hand on her son's and daughter's heads. "And then prostituted..." She shivers and tears streak down her pretty features. "That's why we came here. Because it represented a better future for me... and my brother, had he not been detained at his school by Peacekeepers..."

It's clear to the two that her brother was left behind, and no doubt either Avoxed or thrown into the Games.

Siofra doesn't want to sound insensitive, so she thinks before speaking.

 _And it carries me_

"W...I don't want to bring up bad memories... but I have to know. Was your brother older than you?" she asks, feeling a pang of sadness and guilt in her chest.

The woman nods. "Yes... He was only eight when we left..." Her shoulders shake as she breaks down. "He... He d-didn't stand a ch-ch-chance... when t-they threw him into the a-a-arena four years l-l-later..."

"I'm sorry..." Siofra says gently as she places a hand on the woman shoulder, allowing her to embrace the reporter. "I'm so... so... sorry..."

 _In this world we're just beginning_

They sit there for a few moments before the woman pulls back, her chest heaving as she tries to regain her composure. Narinder takes his chance to ask the next question. "Ma'am, since you've come from Panem, what does the Confederation mean to you from a personal experience?"

The woman looks around, her eyes taking in the sights before resolve fills her broken features. She curls her arms around her two children again and holds them close as they inch towards her, sensing her sadness. The two year old girl and four year old boy hug their mother as close as they can.

"I... To me... The Australian Confederation represents the best hope the world has... and in more ways than one," she explains. "It represents a world where children can be _children_ , not murderers of others. That sickening experiment has lasted for far too long... And it must end! Maybe... just maybe... after this does come to an end... we can showcase to the world _every single damn Game_ that's been recorded."

 _To understand the miracle of living_

"You feel Panem has to be punished for their actions against the next generation?" Siofra asks.

The woman nods resolutely. "Yes. In a way that will show they are far from superior." She looks down at her two kids. "And that will also show them that this world is all we have... and that we can't destroy it like in the years prior to the Apocalypse. Otherwise... it's over for everyone."

 _Baby, I was afraid before_

The two reporters nod and stand up, thanking the woman for her time and again offering their condolences for her brother's death. They make their way across the crowd to a man who's got his head bowed as if in prayer. He is dressed immaculately, like a lawyer is, and he has his briefcase clasped in one hand.

"Excuse me!" Siofra calls to him. The man looks up, his shock of greying red hair falling about his somewhat youthful features.

"Oh!" he exclaims. "I'm sorry. I was busy praying."

 _But I'm not afraid anymore_

"That's all right. Most people are in this day and age," the Irish-Australian replies. She looks him in the eyes. "Do you mind granting us a few minutes of your time for an interview?"

He shakes his head. "Not at all." He gestures to the curb beside him. "Please."

 _Ooh, baby, do you know what that's worth?_

The group sits down, the two cameramen still recording. "Now, what can I do for you?" he asks.

"Well, first off, can you tell us your name?" Siofra asks.

The man nods. "I am Viktor Seidel," he introduces himself. He holds out a hand. "I'm a law professor at the University of Sydney."

"Pleasure to meet you," Narinder says as he shakes the man's hand. He is impressed by his strong grip.

 _Ooh, heaven is a place on earth._

The professor nods as he grins. "So, what do you wish to ask of me?"

"We'd like to know what your honest opinion is regarding the truth of the Games' creation in the aftermath of the First Revolution's failure," the Indian-Australian says. He holds out his commset with the mike extended.

Viktor sighs heavily as he bows his head. "In all honesty, it goes against every single thing that we as humans know to be the law. They did inhumane treatment of resistance fighters, and then applied it to the children in a sickening experiment they call the Hunger Games." He opens his eyes and they are a hard topaz color. "It's beyond sickening... It's twisted and sociopathic."

 _They say in heaven love comes first_

The professor pauses before he continues. "It goes against the Geneva Conventions... in every single way. As you know, the conventions were established during key points in the Before the Fall era, and although most of the text has long since been forgotten, the legacy and key points remain." He holds up a hand and counts them off. "They breached the conventions by carrying out the following: willful killing, torture or inhumane treatment, including biological experiments; willfully causing great suffering or serious injury to body or health; compelling a protected person to serve in the armed forces of a hostile power; willfully depriving a protected person of the right to a fair trial if accused of a war crime; taking of hostages; extensive destruction and appropriation of property not justified by military necessity and carried out unlawfully and wantonly; unlawful deportation, transfer, or confinement."

He lowers his hand. "There are several that they have to make amends for, the biggest being that they carried out torture and inhumane treatment of resistance fighters. They also wantonly took them hostage and are willingly causing serious injury to the bodies and health of otherwise innocent people: children. So, in effect, they are no better than lawless barbarians at this stage of the game, no pun intended."

 _We'll make heaven a place on earth_

The two reporters nod, knowing what he's referring to. "So, in your opinion, what do you feel the Confederation stands for as a whole, with that knowledge in mind?" Siofra asks him.

Viktor grins. "I feel that our country - no, the alliance as a whole - is not a relic of the past, but a beacon of hope, where lawful justice can be dispensed once again. A future where children are protected and where the Geneva Conventions are respected and adhered to." Then he becomes serious. "Because this whole thing has gone on for far too long. Over a century of greed and gluttony has led us to this point in time. So we must use all we have to end it: politically, militarily, economically, and scientifically."

 _Ooh, heaven is a place on earth_

The reporters nod and thank him for his time as they stand up. They finally head on over to the next cluster of people who are waving Australian Confederation flags, along with a new one someone has crafted. This new flag throws the reporters for a loop, as it is an eye catcher.

The new flag possesses on it what appears to be an image of the sun, and in front of that image is a picture of Earth as it is today, and above the image are two hands clasping. The words _Council of Nations_ stand out, and they note that this flag also has a pair of doves holding a tree branch behind the world's image.

 _In this world we're just beginning_

Narinder spots the flag and makes his way over to the group. The leader of this small cluster, a young teenager, spots him and waves him over. Her friends all smile as they wave and cheer.

The two reporters approach the cluster of teenagers as they stop waving their flags. "Excuse me, but I couldn't help but notice this flag you were carrying," Narinder says. "Do you mind if we interview you kids?"

"Not at all, mate," the teen says. "My name's Abigale Lincoln, and these are my friends."

"Nice to meet you," Siofra says as she shakes her hand.

 _To understand the miracle of living_

"So, what's up with this flag? Care to explain what it means?" Narinder asks the girl.

Abigale nods. "Sure." She pulls it closer and holds it out. "As you can see, we've gone above and beyond what the old United Nations flag stood for. We did keep the idea of the planet, but we added a few things to show that this is _our_ world, a world for everyone." She points to the hands. "The hands represent the idea that we can compromise." She moves her finger to the doves and tree branch. "The doves show that peace can be achieved, but what the tree branch represents is the _whole_ of the world. This shows that it's our duty to heal the environment, not exploit it to the extent that Panem does."

"The image of the sun... that represents something, doesn't it?" Siofra inquires.

 _Baby, I was afraid before_

"Yes," Abigale nods. "The sun represents the light of decency and hope. Panem may think of us as the bad guys in some cases, but we're not. We're just trying to get some sense back in this world." She drops her hand. "I just hope that this becomes a clear message for us all."

Narinder takes the flag and looks it over. "I see. Nicely done and good design." He hands it back to her.

 _But I'm not afraid anymore_

"What I don't understand is why they call us savages..." the teen murmurs. "We... We aren't savages! We've got more than they do in terms of freedom and whatnot! We have-"

She is cut off as three of her friends grab her and calm her down. Siofra looks upset, but then speaks softly. "Hey, it's okay, mate. They think they're superior and morally right, but we're good too. We're not the bad guys or savages, despite what they think. We're just trying to save the only world we have left."

 _Ooh, baby, do you know what that's worth?_

"By going to extremes?" Abigale asks finally. "War... Nuclear war did this. What's to say it won't happen again? I know we're against Panem because of the Hunger Games, but... Surely there is another way..."

Narinder nods. "There always is. What Panem's leadership, mostly those who seek resources for greed, don't get is that we can cooperate. We just need to get them to see what is missing. Decency and hope," he says to her. "And that is what your generation still looks for. A better future." He smiles. "Who knows? Maybe one day, you and your friends will become the next leaders and seek a peaceful solution to all this greed and gluttony."

 _Ooh, heaven is a place on earth_

The teenager smiles as she wipes her eyes. "Warfare has scarred our planet too much. We must heal it. And that is what we will do one day."

The reporters nod. "So, Abigale, what do you feel the Confederation stands for as a whole?"

 _They say in heaven love comes first_

She answers instantly. "The Confederation stands for human rights. Children's rights. Environmental conservation. Civil rights. Compromise. And working together, along with carrying out _trade_ , not stealing like barbarians." Her eyes are resolute as she holds up her flag. "And that is what the Council of Nations encourages. But Panem's atrocities must stop in order for this to work. There is _no other option_."

Siofra nods. "And we are in agreement with you," she says.

 _We'll make heaven a place on earth_

The two thank the teens for their time and finally make their way back to the front of the crowd.

Siofra holds her commset up as she begins to speak. "As you can see, many people of different professions and faiths, ages and origins, have taken a stand with the ideals of our former ally at heart. The idea that children deserve to behave and live as _children_ , not murderers. And to show that we can work together and come to a compromise."

 _Ooh, heaven is a place on earth_

She looks back as Sister Nina continues singing. "People across the alliance... no, those who have the same feelings across this world... are taking a stand against Panem's barbaric Hunger Games, and to show that this world is far from broken. That there _is_ _**hope**_ for the future."

Siofra turns back to the camera as her face becomes resolute. "The reasoning behind the creation of the Games may be horrendous, and it may be twisted and inhumane, but as we come upon the final Games, there is no doubt going to be massive changes and upheavals across the world. We are far from stupid, and we are far from naïve. Mistakes of the past... must be learned from."

 _Ooh, heaven is a place on earth_

"So this message goes out to _you_ , President Matthews. Know this: that our decision to stay free and democratic has left us with a burden, yes, but also a hope unlike any other. For the Message that has been received is correct and true: America has _not_ died out. At least abroad. That legacy has not been forgotten by old allies and new friends alike. For as we speak, many others are willing to fight for what's right. Our forces continue to fight and resist the gluttonous actions of the Chinese warlords, as well as Panem." Siofra's eyes are filled with determination as she sweeps her arm across the crowd as they sing as one.

"You can see it for yourself, sir. We're all behind you. Every single one of us," she says.

 _Ooh, heaven is a place on earth_

"This world may be filled with the scars of the Apocalypse, but it is those who came after that can change this world for the better," she continues. "The old generations have died out, and a new generation must take charge, leading the world to a future we have fought for. And that future... is all around us."

Narinder joins his fellow reporter and places a hand on her. "Narinder Jain reporting live from the concert of Sister Nina, alongside Siofra Donaghue."

 _Ooh, heaven is a place on earth_

The two reporters then hold onto one commset. "America still lives on, sir. So do not forget that. Their ideals... have become ours. And we shall continue the legacy of a once great nation!" they say as one.

Behind them the concertgoers cheer as Sister Nina throws out her hands and the whole group finishes the last of the lyrics.

 _Ooh, heaven is a place on earth_

* * *

 **Location: Meldney Complex, Australia**

 **Time: 1630 hours**

 **Date: Monday, 5 June, 0139 AF (2158 AD)**

Seph stares in shock at the screen of his terminal, surprised at the images.

He honestly is surprised by this. He has not expected Sister Nina to try and rally her congregation to reach out to him. His eye is wide as he hears the message from the reporters, and everyone else.

"..." He is shocked speechless.

"You see, Seph?" Tina asks, catching his attention. He turns to look at her, shock still present on his face.

"There's something that someone once said about America. That it was a land of hope, of leadership, and of choice," she continues. Tina places a hand on his mechanical one. "But now... Now _we_ are that land. We have a chance, mate. _We_ have a chance. To show the world that America's ideals have _not_ died out, despite what others say. And..." She smirks as she looks up at the ceiling. "I want you to remember this."

Seph is confused before she looks him in his eye and optic. "Take a look, Seph. Everyone we know, both abroad and at home, are living out their dreams, and are struggling to overcome the New World Order mentality that has taken hold. If our allies are any indication, then we _can_ do this. We _can_ triumph over this way of thinking! We _can_ win! We just have to stay true to what matters: the ideals that once made America so great. Because unlike Panem, we are a nation of _laws_ , not men! Not like them at all. We are better than _that_."

Seph's eye widens as he is struck with the truth.

Tina, his friends, Sister Nina, and his allies are right.

America has _not_ died out. Not in the way that he thought. Rather... that Third Message is right. America still lives on in its former allies. As long as they remain true and free...

Then America will remain in existence.

 _That_ is the greatest legacy of all. The influence of the once great nation even exists after its demise. And _that_ is something that Panem will soon learn, Seph resolves as he stands up. He turns to look at everyone on the screen and smiles. "Guys... Honestly... I don't know what I did to deserve such allies and friends..."

" _We're just looking out for a_ compadre, _no?_ " Oleastro grins.

El-Ghazzawy nods. " _Yes. We are friends, and allies. And if Panem tries to convince us otherwise... this alone has confirmed our decision to be correct._ " A smile crosses his face. " _That it was right to align ourselves with the_ new _superpower of the world._ "

Seph is shocked.

Tina looks on in shock as well. "Wait... _What_ did you call us, mate?" she asks in disbelief.

" _You heard me. It was right to align ourselves with the_ new _superpower of the world. You,_ " the Egyptian replies. " _You have more than earned that rank with your actions and resolve. Just promise us one thing._ "

"What?" Seph asks, wary now.

In response, Director Belo smirks. " _You don't let those_ demonios _get to you again. After all, as your friend said, they are the poison that taints the heart, or something like that, yes?_ "

The Australian chuckles at that. "That is true, mate," he says. "I'll be ready."

The group smiles on screen before slowly they go dark.

Seph turns back to look out the window of his office, feeling a sense of relief filling his being. He looks up, his gaze fixed on the sky above the main complex 'dish'. "We'll be ready for sure..." he murmurs, his eye hardening in resolve for his next big project...


	12. Angels of the Future

The scene is somber as the funeral procession makes its way across the main thoroughfare for the ruined city of Canberra. As the residents of the Meldney Complex start to gather outside beneath, Seph is standing in his office, his teeth gritted as he turns away from the scene. After everything he had done... they had abruptly killed the kid.

Some part of him wants to do nothing more than nuke Panem, but instead he whirls around and punches the wall with a scream of fury. His left hand aches, and he relishes in the pain. No one feels the shame and regret more than he, because to him, Panem is too far gone from their old ideals. His mind is awhirl in thoughts of DeWynter, and he wishes he could strangle the woman with his bare strength, as he is much stronger. But no doubt that would cause a worldwide incident. A situation he does not want. And yet... he desperately wants to show Panem the _real_ legacy that made America stronger than they are now.

He feels tears streaking down his cheek, and he is panting heavily. His optic flares red in his fury and he tries to calm himself down, but his mind is focused on trying to figure out ways to knock Panem off their high horse. A drive that is far stronger than it has been in the past.

Seph just wants to show Panem that they are _not_ superior...

And he would gladly give his life to show it.

The door to the office slides open and he turns to look at his wife and friends and allies as they enter. Each of them has the same look of rage and fury in their eyes, but also a somber look on their faces.

"Let me guess... You blokes feeling the same?" he asks.

Sister Nina nods. "Yes. The boy has been welcomed by the Lord, but..." Her eyes are glacier hard. "Panem..."

"I know..." Seph mutters. "We have to do something... and knock them off their high horses..."

* * *

 **(** _The scene shows a small flame before darkness snuffs it out. But a small ember burns..._ **)**

 **Hikari ga tsudzuku... ! (** _The ember is blown away, becoming one of many as the sun begins to rise beyond a war-torn town._ **)**

 **Hikari ga tsudzuku...** **! (** _The light from the sun overcomes the camera and it fills the screen before fading to show the skyline of Sydney and the name of the series._ **)**

 **Yami ga sono tochi o shuchō suru kamo shirenai (** _The image flares before it shows two people trapped in a ruined structure in what was once Shanghai. They are both shaking and are wounded from shrapnel._ **)**

 **Shikashi, kibō wa enjo no te o kasu (** _A pair of explosions rocks the area and they huddle and whimper before someone lifts the debris off the two of them. It is a group of Australian soldiers._ **)**

 **Sekai ga kawaru to (** _The soldiers help the two children to their feet before one of them grabs a grenade and throws it at some bandits coming to pillage. The grenade explodes before the debris falls away, exposing the ruins of Europe, Marshal Sergei Kudryavtsev's image over the continent, King Lawrence III opposing him over Europe as well._ **)**

 **Furui risō wa moe tsudzukeru (** _The scene is engulfed in a bright flash as it shows Korean soldiers storming through city ruins in what was once Seoul, South Korea, carrying Panemian weaponry as rebels fight back desperately. Above them is Ahn Sun Pok, her face twisted into a sneer as she holds her hands upwards, as if mocking the world's helplessness. Behind her is the Panemian Vice President while President Kane is off to the side, gazing at the sky._ **)**

 **Kieru hikarinonakade (** _With a wave of her hand, she commands the forces to open fire on rebel positions. Missiles rain down, the black smoke engulfing the area before it is blown aside by a hoverplane._ **)**

 **Kurayami ga hirogaru ni tsurete (** _The hoverplane is painted in Arabian colors, and on top of the imposing palace is Muthasim V, the sultan. He looks back as it fades to a map, showing the Egyptian Union breaking away from them. But then it shows the country turning a bluish green as it fades to show a new figure in the shadows._ **)**

 **Watashitachi no kibō wa tsudzukudeshou (** _The figure holds up its right arm before it lunges out, coming into the light to reveal Seph Matthews as he swings his beam saber mounted onto his right arm, cutting through a bandit before spinning and cleaving another's gun in two, following up with a left hook leaving him dazed. He turns, his left optics lens flaring red as it engulfs the screen._ **)**

 **Watashitachi ga mada ikite iru kagiri (** _The light fades to show three other members, all of them gathered around in front of the Meldney Complex. To the left is Japanese Empress Yuki Minaguma. To the right is Filipino President Gueo Largina. And in the middle is Taiwanese President Chae Yang Un. Behind them the flag of the Australian Confederation flutters before the camera zooms in on it, only for it to fall away._ **)**

 **Un, hikari ga tsudzuku! (** _The image of Sydney is revealed, above it Seph and his fellow leaders side by side with the sun behind them, the Australian Confederation flag above them all as the series name appears below them._ **)**

* * *

 **Chapter 11: Angels of the Future**

 **Location: Meldney Complex, Australia**

 **Time: 1800 hours**

 **Date: Saturday, 17 June, 0139 AF (2158 AD)**

The room is tense as the group sits around the table, their eyes fixed on the center as an image rotates above them. "This is it, mates," Seph says. "We have to figure out a way to knock Panem off their high horses... and take down DeWynter's pride and ultranationalism. This is our next objective."

"But how can we do that without risking a fourth war?" Tina asks.

Empress Minaguma nods. "I agree. We need a plan that we can use..."

President Un looks at the group seriously. "And one that can show we are capable of working with others."

President Largina is silent, but the way his eyes flicker indicate he is dead serious. "And one that will not risk war."

Sister Nina nods. Her eyes shimmer as she looks at her friends. "Any ideas then?" she asks.

Martha shifts in her seat. "The only way I can see it, is that we have to try and figure a way to get there before they do. Or..." She sighs heavily. "We risk it."

"Hell no!" Hunter barks. His eyes are hard as he stands up. "We're not risking using what pre-Apocalypse satellites we were able to save!"

"At least you were able to save the top secret ones?" Seph asks as he looks at his Joint Chiefs of Staff Chairman.

Hunter nods as he sits back down. "Yes. We were able to save them, as well as forty percent of the remaining pre-Apoc satellites. But we're taking a risk even maintaining them in orbit. We'll need a better plan if we're to keep an eye on the Games..." he muses. "As it stands, it could lead to another war..."

"Or an occupation again," Tina muses. She looks up. "Our best bet is to rebuild the facility, but underground."

"Already on that, mate," Hunter says as he looks at her. "The good news is that they're willing to do it again, which is surprising, but I'm not complaining. This time though we'll also build a civilian one dedicated to monitoring the weather in the region. So we'll have two, but one will be a cover for the real deal beneath the city."

The President nods. "All right. That'll be good for us. Next we need to figure out a way to knock Panem off their high horses."

Hunter's eyes narrow. "Well... there is that Message..." he begins.

"So? What about it? Even I can't deduce the correct interpretation," Sister Nina admits. "I have been trying to for the last week, and nothing comes clear to me. It is as if the meaning eludes me..."

Minaguma is silent as she ponders this. "Or... maybe... what if the meaning has been in front of us all along?" she muses, catching the others off guard.

"Hold on. What are you getting at?" Tina asks the Empress.

She leans forward in her seat, lacing her hands in front of her mouth. "Think about it. The Message said something about the moon, right? And of how we were to meet with them on the moon? Well.. I think it's clear. It means doing something that DeWynter will despise."

Hunter's eyes widen as he grasps the implications. A sneer crosses his face. "Oh... bloody hell...!" He chuckles. "Now _that_ is brilliant!"

"What? What's brilliant?" Tina asks.

The Joint Chiefs of Staff Chairman looks at her. "Think about it, mate. The devil blokes over there are supposed to be ultranationalist, right? Think only of the state and follow only the state, put the state above even foreigners? Well... this is the _ultimate blow_ to them! In short, Tina, the Message is simple: _work together_ to reach the moon!"

Everyone is shocked by his exclamation.

"Hold on! Are you bloody _serious!?_ " Minaguma cries. "Do you not remember what they did to that boy?!"

"I do," Hunter admits, "but if you think about it, this will either force them to swallow their pride and admit that the nation is not all that's important, but the whole _world_ is important! It's a blow to the ultranationalists in the most ironic way! They _despise_ the outside world, but it will _require_ working _with_ the outside world to reach the moon!" He is smirking. "And the only way to knock them off their high horses!"

"So... there is no war... but a battle of wits to secure a cooperation of sorts!" Sister Nina gasps.

"Doesn't mean there won't be one once those bloody Games end," Seph snorts. "But the idea is clear." He smirks as he looks at his team and friends. "So... I want to get a plan in place. We know they have a goal, and so do we. But _we_ have an engine that can get them there. And to get that engine, they'll need to accept they _need_ us in order to reach it."

"And what if they decline?" Tina asks.

"Then we'll tell them it's either them or us. And after what happened with the Korean blokes? I say we use that as a message and a warning. Kane is sensible. He'll get those ultranationalists in line," Seph remarks. He folds his arms and looks at the image of the planet, and the moon. "Now, it's time to start preparing. Our project _will_ succeed..."

The group nods, realizing what he's saying. A true _international_ effort to reach the moon is about to begin.

"Get the others in on this, too," Seph says. "Contact our allies and ask them if they'd like to participate." His eye gleams. "I'm sure even they'd be willing to work with us on this..."

* * *

 _The next few months were busy as my friends and I worked to get our allies in on the project, which we named the Luna II Protocol. Of course, King Lawrence and Queen la Fleur were in from the get go. It took a bit more convincing of the Spanish and Egyptians, but they agreed to assist us in supplying possible landing points for the spacecraft. Oleastro also went one step further and provided some old data pads on the space programs from pre-Apocalypse nations, mostly the National Aeronautics and Space Administration from the old United States. We were baffled as to how he got the data, but he informed us that it was mostly because some old workers fled to his country in the past._

 _That proved to be an asset in many ways, and even the old pre-Apoc satellites we saved from Panem's ASAT missiles contributed to our objectives of getting as much detail on space as we could. Our current satellites were useful in determining the path of old space debris, and when the South American Protectorate was asked later in the year, around Christmastime, they offered to provide an ocean-landing spot in the Sea of Brazil. It was a huge boon to us, and to them as well. Our alliance was cemented even tighter through this effort. We roped in a few other more minor nations, mostly the remnants of South Africa, promising to give them more protection if they contributed what little they had to the space program._

 _They unfortunately refused, but we respected their choice._

 _It proved to bite them in the rear when van de Kaamp sent them to their deaths via a plague. I hated it, but sometimes things call for drastic measures. One thing we did do though was we gave de Kaamp a bit of a rude awakening when we sent a platoon of GMs to harass his borders. We just blew up the wall at a key junction point and allowed all kinds of refugees to flee into his territory to escape the bandits and cannibals that still roam the African continent. It wasn't much, but it gave him something to think about, and to keep him busy. No doubt he'll be out of power sometime later._

 _Anyway, the blokes in the USS and Caliphate heard of our program, and at first it seemed like there would be a new war, but we insisted that it was a collaborative effort to reach the moon. There was much distrust, but after some time and some skillful negotiating, we managed to convince them that we were being honest on this. In order to do so though, we needed to get one last nation on our side: Panem._

 _And that was the most difficult part, considering who we had to contend with._

 _Viondra DeWynter._

 _ _As for the whole China thing, well, things finally settled down after we contained the blokes. Taiwan led the expansion into the main territory, conquering land from some of the warlords and even managing to secure Beijing. The warlord there was killed, and Wei Feng was also apprehended and killed by firing squad the same year. A shaky ceasefire was agreed upon, and the warlords handed over the ICBMs, which we promptly took and hid someplace safe. We never told Panem this though. We did manage to also ensure that the blokes were kept in check. We eventually met at the next CN meeting and divided China amongst us, feeling it was too risky to keep the country around. Of course, in our section, Taiwan claimed it first, and I agreed to let the blokes have it. They more than earned it, given their efforts and time to assist us in getting this far. The people didn't like it, but in the end it was for the best. Only issue we still have is the border with Korea, but our mobile suits have proven themselves time and again, so now we have five divisions of mobile suits along the border with them.__

 _ _Things are still tense, but at least we're not going to war again.__

 _ _Panem was not too keen on the idea, but it was better than nothing, I admitted. Viondra wasn't too pleased, but it was sure a satisfying sight to see her face turn red as she stormed out. Kane actually felt it was a good idea in comparison to letting the warlords run rampant there. At least in Mexico they can be contained much easier than in China. That was something that really worried us. But well, it worked out and now we could focus on the space program ahead of us. The Luna II Protocol was initiated...__

* * *

 **Location: Meldney Complex, Australia**

 **Time: 1300 hours**

 **Date: Monday, 11 May, 0140 AF (2159 AD)**

Seph smirks as he looks at his friends and cabinet members as well as his fellow leaders. Sister Nina is there, as well, and she is resolute as she looks at the screen as it lights up.

The image of Panem's flag appears and Seph takes in a breath. "All right, guys. This is it," he murmurs. "Either it's an international effort or Panem goes it alone."

The others nod as the screen flickers back to show Kane, who is now much older due to the rigors of his job. In contrast, Viondra looks as beautiful as ever, something that makes Seph sick to his stomach. But he keeps his hatred in check. No need to ruin everything he's worked for with this.

" _I thought I didn't want to speak to you foreigners again,_ " Viondra mewls.

"So you say, mate," Seph notes rather calmly, which throws her for a loop.

Kane also takes notice, so he is the first to speak. " _Does this by any chance have to do with this sudden interest in the moon?_ " he asks.

Seph nods. "Yes. We know what you're up to. We've had suspicions that you intend to get there for some time now. And believe me, you won't be able to get there without something important." A smirk crosses his face.

He has them right where he wants them.

" _If you mean a rocket, then we have our own, thank you very much!_ " Viondra purrs.

"So what? I mean something else," Seph muses. "Something very important that a rocket can't run without. And I'm not talking fuel that could further pollute the environment." His grin is confident as he looks her in the eyes. "We know you want to get there on your own, but here's a fact. We have knowledge that you don't about space. Past records, and current records based on tracking old debris. We also have secured landing sites across the globe should things go wrong."

" _Are you trying to insist we join_ you _in making it to the moon?!_ " Viondra suddenly shrieks.

The Australian can't help it. He grins widely. "What else, mate?" he remarks. Then he becomes serious. "Face it. We're both after the same thing, right? Well, only issue is... you. Or rather your disdain for us foreigners. You always want Panem to be superior to everyone else. Well, here's a news flash for you, mate. You're not the only ones who have retained stuff from the past. We were surviving long before you blokes came back onto the scene. So, in order for this to work between our two nations, you either have to swallow your ultranationalist pride and accept that this world is for all of us so we can work together on this, or you can go it alone and maybe not make it there using a reliable and sustainable reactor."

Viondra's eyes are hard as she looks the President in the eyes.

" _You are not-_ " She is cut off by Kane.

" _No, Viondra. Hear him out,_ " he says.

Seph nods. "About time you spoke up, Kane," he says in approval. Then he directs his attention back to Viondra. "Look. We can work together, or you can go it alone. As it stands, we resolved the China issue several months ago, so now we can focus on other things, such as healing the divisions in this world. And to do so, it requires cooperation, not ultranationalist chest thumping. God..." He shakes his head. "That's the kind of posturing that led us to this situation and political climate."

Then he looks up again. "And the moon landings you're aiming for are a prime example, mate. We can work together with you to make it happen. But if you're too much of an ultranationalist, then you'll have to go it alone. And I'm sure Korea's nuke site will be a good warning as to what could happen..." He lets his voice trail off.

The implications are clear. Either they swallow their pride or refuse and be left behind.

Viondra glares at the Australian. Kane is surprised.

Seph has skillfully maneuvered them into a corner, and the only way out is one of two options. But Kane, being the leader he is, always puts Panem first and foremost before Viondra's pride.

" _President Matthews, you are correct on many things. People_ do _need to heal. And it is time for that to happen. This division has gone on for too long. The war of our forefathers led us to this point, and it is time to rebuild. Not destroy. We should learn from the past, not neglect it._ " His eyes are solemn as he looks up. " _I can see that now._ That _is what you were trying to teach us. And what some of us have forgotten._ "

Viondra, on the other hand, scowls as she starts to slink off. Her child giggles as she bounces her on her hip, disappearing from sight as her mother exits the room.

Of course, things are only about to get worse...

* * *

 _Well, so far things were going well. It seemed like the world was on the path towards peace. With a unified effort to reach the moon, we were sure to have a global change. I had nothing but hope in my chest the whole time. And even the people of the Confederation felt we were on the verge of a massive revolutionary change, back to the days of Before the Fall. Kane was sure to triumph against the decadence and gluttony that the Capitolites represented, and his hopes were burning bright. Even during the Days of Remembrance there was nothing but optimism._

 _The next year rolled around and it seemed like a new era was coming._

 _But then everything changed._

 _Around October 31, 0141 AF, we got word on our linkup with the Panemian satellite network._

 _It was a risky move, to retain a linkup, but this one we spent weeks on after the fall of the radar station and their Operation: Blackout. This time we kept it to video and audio feed recording. The thing about this linkup was that we couldn't exactly broadcast lest we give away our hand. But what we did learn was something horrific: President Kane was dead, assassinated._

 _And with it went all hope we had for a better world._

 _Yet the strange thing was that although Kane was dead, it seemed like there was something else that kept us going. I mean... I can't explain it, but after that news broke, the entire Confederation came together to mourn Kane's death. I couldn't see anything that led to this, let alone a reason to mourn who was once a hated enemy, now a staunch ally, and possibly the best hope we had to restore decency. When Viondra came on with her broadcasts, well... almost all of us had one goal in mind: ensure she never won the presidency again._

 _But that left us in a bind. We had no more spies in Panem, and most of them were undergoing intense psychotherapy to help them regain all memories of Panem and their time there. And we sure as hell couldn't hack into their network again to influence the elections, lest we give away a big advantage we still possessed. So the next best thing was to get in contact with her political opponent: Senator Archibald Kane, the son of the deceased President._

 _The next year was spent trying to figure out how Kane had been assassinated, but it turned out that there was something that struck me as odd when I reviewed the footage. The assassins didn't seem all there, much like our spies were in the aftermath of their... sessions... with Panem's "Peacekeepers". And then it clicked._

 _They hadn't been truly there at all. They had been hijacked by someone, and then set loose on the President to try and assure Viondra's rise to power. I was furious and angry beyond belief. I wanted to do nothing but go on over there and kill the bitch with my bare hands. But as always, my friends and fellow leaders, along with our allies, urged me to stay calm and focus on the real task at hand: trying to stop her in any way we could._

 _Archibald Kane seemed like the next best option for us to get into contact with. But the only issue was contacting him without tipping our hand. So that left us in a predicament until Un's younger Vice-President, Chen Yu, who took over when he died in his sleep several weeks before, offered a proposal that was ingenious as it was risky: to use a linkup from the Council of Nations' own satellites to communicate with Kane. Now, it wasn't really legal for their Senators to be in contact with national leaders, but I used it as a pretext to get a direct line, stating I wanted to meet with a potential President, to offer my best wishes in his favor. The gambit worked, and I was permitted to speak with him on a private line._

 _And that day was one I would never forget._

* * *

 **Location: Meldney Complex**

 **Time: 1800 hours**

 **Date: Tuesday, 14 December, 0141 AF (2162 AD)**

Seph sits in his office, his eye narrowed as he watches the screen flash a few times before the Panemian seal comes up.

The seal flickers before giving way to showcase the man he has contacted.

Kane is a dead ringer for his deceased father in his younger years, that much is certain. But if there is one difference it is in his drive, and the fact he has his mother's eyes. Archibald Kane is a senator who wishes to see his father's work be completed. And so does Seph.

" _Ah. You must be President Joseph Matthews,_ " Kane remarks, his face lighting up with a smile.

Seph nods. "Yes. And you're Senator Archibald Kane, right?"

Kane nods his head. " _That is correct. So, I understand you wanted to wish me luck in the Presidential elections._ "

"Yeah. But there is something that I wanted to discuss with you should you win." Seph takes in a breath and lets it out, steeling himself for this. He's rehearsed it repeatedly with his wife and friends, but he knows because of his temper regarding this subject he needs to keep it in perspective. He doesn't want to offend a potential ally.

" _What is it you wish to discuss?_ " Kane asks, becoming serious. " _It is rare for anyone to do this right before an election._ "

"True, but this is important. We...heard from some friends that your father's policies were dedicated to undoing the greed and gluttony that has overtaken the heart of Panem," Seph says carefully. "And that his... political opponents have had nothing but bad things to say about them. And also, I would like to express my sincerest condolences for your loss. I know it's hard to lose someone close to you."

Kane's eyes shimmer a bit as he wipes them. " _Thank you, President Matthews,_ " he whispers. Then he nods. " _Yes, it is hard. And that is why I wish to continue his work and overcome what has made us lose sight of who we are. I wish to see people strive to be more open and free._ "

"You're not the only ones, mate," Seph says. His eye hardens. "And that's why if you win, I wish to see that you do everything in your bloody power to repent for the sins your nation's leaders have committed for the last century. _"_

 _That_ gets the senator. He cocks an eyebrow. " _Come again?_ "

"You heard me, Senator. Your nation has to repent for the sins your leaders have committed against the next generation for the last one hundred years." Seph's optic flares a dim red color. "And by that, I mean you must compensate all those families who lost loved ones to those barbaric 'Games' for the next one hundred years. Also, you know of Avoxes? Well, that _has_ to stop! Their tongues _**must**_ be returned to them, and those that cannot must be compensated for that loss by giving them new tongues grown artificially. Third, you must go green. Stop using coal and start researching green energy. Fourth, stop stealing resources. Fifth, give people freedom to say what they want. Sixth... you _HAVE_ to deprogram District 2 from this... 'ruthless warrior' mentality they have. And also... you are to admit publicly to the whole damn world that you were nothing but barbarians for one hundred years and list all the crimes you committed. Your leaders as they are must stand trial at the Council of Nations and be given justice for all those who died as a result of their actions."

He has listed his terms. Now he has to wait and see what Kane has to say.

Kane for his part is outright stunned by the demands, but he then chuckles a bit.

" _You're just like me. You wish to see a better future. You... I must admit, when I first heard of you on the news, I wasn't sure_ what _to think. But you have a kindred spirit,_ " he admits. " _Although the thing about the Avoxes I hadn't considered before. And frankly, I have to agree with you. I wish to see people speak freely without fear of losing their speech. I just want to see this nation go back to the days before this all happened. Before the... how do you say it... Before the Fall?_ "

Seph nods, his eye widening a bit. "Yeah." Then he becomes serious. "I'm surprised you're just accepting my demands like this."

" _Actually, they are not so much demands as they are repeating what I have said in my debate,_ " Kane admits. " _Except I did not consider returning the Avoxes' tongues or going green. And as for the admittance... I have to say that it is a bit much, but you are correct in that we have gone backwards. My father and I often talked about this prior to his death. Our Districts have suffered for far too long. And we need to heal._ " His eyes shimmer a bit. " _That is why I'm running. To undo the corruption and hate that has tainted us for so long. Snow... he... he corrupted us... and did everything he could to subjugate the people. He was the_ worst _leader we could've asked for. But mostly, I..._ " He grits his teeth as he clenches his fists. " _I want to see this world heal from the aftermath. So many people died... and we lost a lot of goodness in our souls. But with the way things are... it's going to get worse unless we change things._ "

"Why do you think I bloody fought so bloody damn hard?" Seph rumbles. He gestures to his right arm and left optic. "I lost my left eye during an incursion against a Chinese warlord as he attacked Taiwan. I lost my right arm during a fight in Papua New Guinea when bloody Korean humandrones were coming for its resources. But during those times, I saw how low most of humanity has fallen. Cannibalism was rife in the occupied areas of the country before we drove them back. Lawlessness was everywhere. We brought hope back to those poor blokes. And what I saw back home was enough to drive me to run for President. The civil rights movement prompted me to do so, and well... here I am." He lowers his hands and tents both of them in front of his mouth. "What I saw those days was not what I read about. Old books showcased a different world... a world with hope. Respect. Tolerance. Debate. Understanding. And... most of all, caring for children. We didn't force them to kill one another in a barbaric sport straight from the days of Rome. We educated, loved, and respected them. Sure there were some who didn't and in some cases children were used as soldiers, but overall the mood was one of caring for them and trying to ensure that they had a better life."

" _And that is another reason why I'm running. To end this barbarity and show that we're not going to continue this,_ " Kane admits. His eyes harden. " _This has gone on far too long... and we do need to repent._ " His face softens as he looks at his desk, at his clenched fists. " _I don't know about deprogramming District 2, but maybe we can initiate some kind of psychotherapy to help them regain their compassion and respect. I'm not sure if it will work, but... we do have to change. Kane... my dad... he wanted to undo the sins of the past but now... now I'm just not sure if..._ " His eyes shimmer as tears threaten to spill over.

Seph's eye softens and he leans closer. "Kane... Senator, you're willing to fight. And that's good. But you can't give up. Viondra is just a bitch. While she does have influence and power, what that bloke doesn't get is what really matters. She and her ilk, no doubt including the 'old nobility' in a sense, have no idea as to the power that democracy can entail. Hell..." Here Seph laughs out loud. "I mean, look at us! We're a powerhouse, but we're a democracy! And unlike the old nobility, we believe firmly in laws. DeWynter's brood only sees themselves as nobility and that the nobility should rule over the commoners. Panem under Snow was close to a monarchy, and now same with DeWynter. So..." His eye hardens as his optic flares bright red. "I'm hoping for the best for you, mate."

Kane seems to regain his confidence and he nods. " _Right. I'll do my damn best to win this thing. But also... I fear that there could be another war..._ "

Now Seph's grin turns predatory. Kane is put off by this, and he shivers against his will.

"Which is why we'll be taking action this time around!" he remarks. A dark chuckle escapes his throat. "If there's going to be another war... we'll be aiding you guys for sure!"

His eye gleams with a determined gaze like that of a soldier. "If the rest of you need assistance, we'll be sending our best forces to give you the firepower you need! This time, liberty will triumph, and fascism will fall, just like in World War II!"

Kane is shocked. " _You'll be willing to do that?!_ "

"We nearly did once before during the Second Revolution," Seph states. He leans back a bit, his face softening. "But we cut off the support when the resistance began to lose. We weren't willing to risk it. But not now. Not this time."

The senator is silent before he sighs and smiles. " _Then I guess we'll have to hope it doesn't come down to that._ "

"If it does, we'll be there," Seph says with a grim chuckle. "We're not about to let this go on. We'll be sure to end it. One way or another."

Kane nods and reaches to close the line. " _Also... this call was confidential, right?_ " he asks.

Seph nods. "Yes. I made sure of it. We'll be in touch if you win."

The senator closes the communications line and Seph turns back to the door as it slides open and his friends and allies enter.

"So, you blokes hear that?" he asks.

Tina nods. "Yeah. We did, mate. It sounds like Archibald Kane is a similar soul to you."

Hunter folds his arms as he leans against the wall and looks out at the city as the lights flicker and shimmer in the snow. "You sure that there will be another war?" he asks. "Because if not, then all that training we're having the troops go through will be for nothing."

"I'm sure of it, Hunter," Seph says as he stands up from his seat. "And Sister Nina only reinforced it with her last vision, remember?"

The priestess nods as she unfolds her hands from prayer mode and flitters over to Seph and his friends. "Yes. If you recall, my last vision was only four days ago. And it curtailed the results of this election. But the figure was in shadow. I cannot say for sure whether it is good or bad, but... we must be prepared for if the worst is to happen. I did say the Lord tends to be vague in His visions, did I not?" she remarks, her blue eyes flicking over the group.

"You did," Martha notes dryly. "But surely He could've given you a clearer vision?"

Sister Nina shakes her head somberly. "Unfortunately," she admits sadly.

Empress Minaguma rolls her eyes. Then she looks directly at Seph. "So, we'll be ready then?" she asks.

The Australian nods. "Yeah. We'll be ready for sure."

President Chen Yu has a serious look on her face as she addresses the group. "The only issue here is whether or not we will even be prepared for whatever comes our way," she notes.

Seph is not too surprised. For a woman in her sixties she is very pragmatic, having been on the front lines like her predecessor, but not at as late an age as he had been. Her grey hair is at odds with her golden eyes, but her lean and athletic body is a testament to her work ethic in the armed forces and her strict training even as the new President of Taiwan. She has a single scar on her right cheek, but it is a big one, as she was burned during her last tour of duty. But like Seph, she has a prosthetic arm, only the left forearm is mechanical instead. And as a twist, like with Minaguma and Seph, hers is modeled after one of the Gundam mecha, specifically the Gundam Bael from _Mobile Suit Gundam: Iron-Blooded Orphans_. The sharp fingers twitch as she drums them on her flesh.

"I figured as much," he sighs.

"So, that aside, we have much to plan for," Largina rasps.

The group nods.

"All right. We'll get to it," Seph says.

* * *

 **Location: Meldney Complex - War Room**

 **Time: 2000 hours**

The War Room is packed with the entire Joint Chiefs of Staff, along with Martha, Tina, Seph, and Sister Nina. The other leaders have left to go back to their respective nations to go over the plans with their own military commanders, but they are on communications with the Australians.

Seph looks over the group. He sees the Vice Chairman, a big bear of a man named Matfey Naoumov. His platinum blonde hair is barely the length for regulations and his piercing green eyes barely miss a thing. He is well muscled and he is a very forceful leader, making him key in moving decisions along if Hunter can't manage. His service in the Australian Marine Corps is legendary, and he retired after he lost a leg, only to have it replaced by a Zaku model leg.

The Chief of Staff of the Army is a woman in her late forties, with bright green hair and orange eyes, a clashing color combination. But her intellect is something to be admired, as she has risen through the ranks rather quickly. Her calm demeanor often convinces people she is not military, but Anastasia Ruskov is far from being demure and feminine. She is a rough and rowdy tomboy, having grown up on a farm in the Outback close to one of the older cities. Her marksmanship is also nothing to sniff at either.

Charles Patton is the Chief of Staff of the Air Force, and he is an ace fighter pilot, having downed over twenty aircraft in his early career and rising rapidly to become a squad leader. His red hair is greying and his brown eyes seem dull and boring, but they bely a quick wit and rather sociable personality. He is in his late fifties, but his body is still lean and toned from his years of training.

The Commandant of the Marine Corps is a small, rather petite woman, but her small size belies incredible strength for someone so small. At only five foot two, Serena Long does not possess the build of a Marine at first glance. Her long black hair and rather dainty green eyes only add to the illusion, but her record speaks for itself, with four tours to China and Vietnam under her belt. Her supple body hides a reservoir of strength that not many women can match, which makes her a force to be reckoned with. She may be in her early forties, but she is already someone to not underestimate.

The Chief of Naval Operations is a former naval officer named Dania Herrick, and she is in her early fifties. With white hair and stunning purple eyes, she is an exotic beauty. Her naval uniform is crisp and cleanly pressed, a holdover from her days in the Navy. She is disciplined and strict, but she does not let her discipline keep people from having well deserved relaxation time on shore leave. She has one eye missing, replaced with a patch instead of an optical sensor lens, a mark from when she got into a bar fight during shore leave in Vietnam.

The Commandant of the Coast Guard is also present, standing at an imposing six foot seven. His name is Justin Lakes, and he has green hair with reddish brown eyes. His uniform is stretched taut against his massive frame, and his beard is neatly trimmed. He has no scars or marks from years of battle, but his eyes are keen and quick, and his experience is testament to the number of medals he wears on his chest.

The last member of the group of the Chief of Staff of the Mobile Suit Corps. Alan Gale is lean but well built, possessing thick purple hair and amber colored eyes. His left hand is replaced with a clawed hand, courtesy of a mine blowing it off during his service a few months ago. His personality may seem dull, but he is far from stupid or slow. He is rather quick on the uptake and is very observant, which led to his rise through the ranks to his position today.

Seph looks over the JCS as Hunter sits down beside the others.

"Okay. So we've got the meeting to begin," Seph says as the rest sit down as well.

"Yes. So I understand you want to know how the plans are coming along?" Anastasia asks.

The President nods. "You know it."

"Our training has commenced as planned. We have all of our units standing by," Matfey remarks. His eyes harden. "Our tank forces are at full capacity and we have our other units standing by."

"Mobile suits are prepped for mobilization," Alan states. He folds his arms. "But I am a bit concerned as to how often we're using them."

"Sometimes it's necessary to show force where it's needed," Seph replies. His optic flares a bit as he leans forward. "And it is a risk, but one I'm willing to take lest Panem use their mutts against their own populace again."

Justin frowns as he leans back in his seat. "So. For the attack, the Coast Guard will have to remain on standy, is that right?"

The President nods. "Afraid so, Justin," he says. "But it's for the best because then we'll have a force to defend our shores."

Justin is unsure, but nods. "All right."

Dania looks at her superior. "Sir, we've got all ships ready, but I'm not sure we should do this, given Panem's naval superiority," she admits. "If we even make an attempt..."

"Which is why we're moving out the mobile suits," Seph counters. "They'll be able to cut through Panem's naval ships to clear a path for ours." He smirks. "Besides, last showoff proved they were too fast for the missiles to lock onto."

The naval officer frowns. "I'm still having reservations though," she says.

"And I appreciate you giving your concern," the President assures her. "We'll be prepared and we'll try to avoid as many of Panem's ships as we can."

That seems to lesson her worries and she nods. "Right."

Next up is Charles as he shifts in his seat. "Our air force is ready to go, sir. We just need the word and we'll move out."

"Right. But until further notice... we're to remain on standby. All of us," Seph remarks.

"Regarding the plans though, it's fairly simple and straightforward," Hunter says. "We have to assist the Resistance if there is another war. Provide them with all assistance possible, short of a nuke. If it comes down to it... then we'll launch our own operations to assist. That is why we ran through these operations numerous times. It may not seem like much, but sometimes even the smallest amount can make a difference."

Martha nods as she leans back in her seat. "Right. That is what we need to keep in mind. How much assistance can we provide short of actually going to war ourselves."

"I think it's simple enough," Tina adds. "But there is another issue we have to address."

Sister Nina nods. "Yes. The nanobuilders."

"The solution that we created with them is indeed versatile," Matfey notes, "but it is hardly a cure for every single problem. The issue here is whether or not we can actively program them to only assail mutts and nothing more."

"I believe we can if we use our supercomputers," Martha states. "Better to be safe than sorry, right?"

Everyone nods.

The meeting goes on for another few hours before they part and head off.

As Seph makes his way back to the main office, his eye hardens and he grits his teeth.

"And this time... we will not fail..." he mutters. His optic flares crimson before he looks out the window, and then a smirk crosses his face as he sees the figure of Wing Zero EW atop the main tree in the center of the complex's central column.

"The future is coming back..." he adds. "For real this time!"


	13. I Can Only Imagine

The last thing anyone expects is for Seph to come storming out of his office, his eye filled with rage and hatred. "That damn bastard bitch!" he shouts, punching his fist into the wall. His optic flares as he draws his fist back and punches the wall a few more times, his chest heaving as he stands there, panting. "After all we worked for... And all for what!?"

Tina is beside herself as she grits her teeth, her eyes reflecting deep hatred for the woman. "I'd love to get my hands on her..."

"Just calm down!" Martha suddenly butts in. "We can't get all bloody worked up over this wanker! We need to stay calm and focused!"

"Yeah... but how can we unless we defeat this bitch?" Tina growls.

Sister Nina is off to the side, her gaze fixed on the emblem of the Confederation, the former flag of America now hanging loosely and limply. "We failed..." she mutters. "We failed in our-" Suddenly she tenses as her eyes widen.

A strange feeling overcomes her and she loses her sense of self, even if only for a moment. She feels her lips moving, and her voice speaks, but it is not her speaking. It feels like a new force, one she knows all too well.

Then the moment passes, and she is panting as she is on her hands and knees. Seph is beside her, his eye wide and Tina has her hands over her mouth. Martha and Hunter are shocked as well.

* * *

 **(** _The scene shows a small flame before darkness snuffs it out. But a small ember burns..._ **)**

 **Hikari ga tsudzuku... ! (** _The ember is blown away, becoming one of many as the sun begins to rise beyond a war-torn town._ **)**

 **Hikari ga tsudzuku...** **! (** _The light from the sun overcomes the camera and it fills the screen before fading to show the skyline of Sydney and the name of the series._ **)**

 **Yami ga sono tochi o shuchō suru kamo shirenai (** _The image flares before it shows two people trapped in a ruined structure in what was once Shanghai. They are both shaking and are wounded from shrapnel._ **)**

 **Shikashi, kibō wa enjo no te o kasu (** _A pair of explosions rocks the area and they huddle and whimper before someone lifts the debris off the two of them. It is a group of Australian soldiers._ **)**

 **Sekai ga kawaru to (** _The soldiers help the two children to their feet before one of them grabs a grenade and throws it at some bandits coming to pillage. The grenade explodes before the debris falls away, exposing the Kane family as they are exiled. An explosion rocks the scene before it fades to show a scene of mobile suits attacking Van de Kaamp's borders in Africa._ **)**

 **Furui risō wa moe tsudzukeru (** _The scene is engulfed in a bright flash as one of the mobile suits fires its beam rifle. The light fades to show Nina as she stands beside a statue of Jesus overlooking the Church she heads, the figure of Wing Zero: EW version being graced by His presence. Her eyes are locked onto it, and behind her stands a figure that is in shadow._ **)**

 **Kieru hikarinonakade (** _The image envelops the screen before Viondra DeWynter steps out of the shadows, her eyes filled with blackness as she sneers. Behind her is a chained eagle._ **)**

 **Kurayami ga hirogaru ni tsurete (** _The eagle is shown before a feather floats down, the camera following it as it blows towards the Confederation, where several figures stand in front of Sydney. One of them is Seph Matthews and he glares at the screen with determination in his eye as he waves his hand, and several squads of mobile suits, four of them in shadow, fly overhead._ **)**

 **Watashitachi no kibō wa tsudzukudeshou (** _The shadowy machines split off and open fire on Panemian forces with beam rifles. The beams impact several units of muttations and a shadowy shape is launched from one of the old Chinese silos, only for it to streak through orbit and towards the moon. An old American flag is shown behind the moon before a light engulfs the screen._ **)**

 **Watashitachi ga mada ikite iru kagiri (** _The light fades to show the three other members, all of them gathered around in front of the Meldney Complex. To the left is Japanese Empress Yuki Minaguma. To the right is Filipino President Gueo Largina. And in the middle is Taiwanese President Chen Yu. Behind them the flag of the Australian Confederation flutters before the camera zooms in on it, only for it to fall away._ **)**

 **Un, hikari ga tsudzuku! (** _The image of Sydney is revealed, above it Seph and his fellow leaders side by side with the sun behind them, the Australian Confederation flag above them all as the series name appears below them._ **)**

* * *

 **Chapter 12: I Can Only Imagine**

 **Location: Meldney Complex, Australia - Australian Confederation**

 **Time: 1300 hours**

 **Date: Saturday, 1 January, 0142 AF (2163 AD/0100 ADD)**

Seph is shocked. That is all he can say as he helps Nina to her feet.

"What bloody happened?" she repeats.

"Mate... you just gave a prophecy!" Hunter blurts.

The priestess's eyes widen. "What?"

"You heard me!" Hunter says. He shows her the notepad he's written on. " _The Devil's Servant will die. The Eagle shall once more fly. And the people expose the lie._ " He lowers the notepad and shows it to her. "It's all there."

Nina grabs it and looks it over. She doesn't know what to say as she hands it back in silent shock. "You gotta be bloody kidding..."

"No. It's true," Seph says as he looks at her. "Something tells me that now, we need to be on alert more than ever. Panem is going to the shitter. There _will_ be another war. That much is certain. And first off, we need to find Kane. ASAP."

"We're already on it," Hunter replies as he hands over a tablet. The President takes it and scans it with his optic. "We got a bloom of fire from Panem's western seaboard. We picked it up via one of the spy sats we saved."

"You found him?" Seph blurts.

"The hovercraft he was on exploded..." His voice trails off and Seph's optics flashes as he gets the implications. "Besides, this brings up another issue. Those two AI... Vi and Pax. They are _far_ too human to be mere AIs. I've got some of my guys digging around in the supercomputer network because I have a sinking feeling they tapped our comms even though we encrypted them. The guys say that until further notice all comms will have to be done via landlines due to my feelings on this issue."

"Hold on. You trying to tell us that they bugged our quantum supercomputers?!" Tina exclaims.

The Joint Chiefs Chairman is serious. "Something tells me they planted bits of themselves inside our network so they could listen in on our comms. That explains why she knew of the secure link. And how she's always one step ahead of us."

"Those damn pieces of software!" Martha hisses.

Nina is shocked as well. "But I thought..."

Hunter is silent before he sighs. "So did I. The only conclusion I can come to is that Panem had a quantum computer themselves. That would explain everything they've done, as well as how they were able to infiltrate our own network."

"But if we have quantum _super_ computers, then shouldn't it be even more difficult for them to hack?" Tina asks.

"Not for them." Hunter's eyes are grim. "The AIs... or should I say the Devil's Spawn... hacked it through careful analysis and planning. The guys say we may have to initiate a full wipe of the computer cores and reboot it with software from early in the 0020s."

"That'll wipe everything we have!" Seph shouts.

"Better to lose it than to have them continue to have a foothold in our systems," Hunter replies. "I want those bastards out of the network." His eyes turn hard. "Or else we'll be at their mercy."

The group is silent for a moment. Hunter is right, Seph realizes. They can't allow those two AI to remain present in their network. But what else can they do...?

Then, like a beam saber igniting, an idea brews in his head. "Hold on... I think I just got a nasty idea," he says. "If they can use it to anticipate our moves... why don't we use it against them and anticipate _their_ moves?"

That gets the others. Tina looks at her husband before opening the doors and ushering them inside. She knows him. He's got something in the works, and he doesn't want anyone to hear about it.

Inside the main office, Seph sits down at his desk and looks to his VP. She nods and presses a button on the tablet she carries, activating all jammers and sensors and scramblers in the room. She double checks the security before triple checking and then running an antivirus scan, this one keyed to detect any presence of Vi and/or Pax. The scan turns up clean a half hour later. Martha lowers her tablet and nods. "We're clean."

Seph nods. "Good. Because I _don't_ want those blokes to find out what we're up to."

"I am curious though, mate," Nina admits. "Why _do_ you wish to undermine Panem so much?"

"Because those blokes have gone too far!" Seph growls. "After World War III, things went down the shitter, and although the world is recovering, it's not recovering in a _moral_ sense. Would you want to live in a world where nations don't get along and it's first come first serve for resources?!"

None of his friends and government members want that. They shake their heads.

Seph bows his head as he reflects back on his own nation's survival. It had only been by sheer luck that they avoided the majority of the nukes. And it was only due to sheer luck that that bastard real estate mogul from his own country had been killed in the blast. And of how many people in the aftermath had almost gone backwards, if not for the actions of the government. His eye narrows as he recalls the efforts of Australian corporations and conglomerates to allay the fears of the people and assist them in getting food and shelter. The barges had been the brainchild of one such corporate head, and they have lasted for over a century due to how effective they were. In fact, if not for the companies and corporations pouring their vast resources into helping the people, then they'd be out of a work force, and they'd have gone backwards. True the populace did suffer, but at least they _survived the Apocalypse_ _with their civility and decency intact_. That was the big thing. Compared to Panem, Australia was the only country to retain some semblance of what once was the state of the world. Now, he knows that the only way to win is to defeat Panem's so-called 'President' DeWynter. She had outmaneuvered them by blowing up their unified satellite, but he was not about to let this go. He hated her. And once the war broke out... he was going over there.

"They think we have nowhere to run, do they? Well..." Seph's optic flashes. A smirk crosses his face as he recalls the alliance in the works. "They are the ones who have nowhere to run!"

"They have way more forces than we do, though," Martha points out.

Seph knows she's right. But the Gundams they've worked on are completed, and they have proven themselves in more ways than one. "True, but maybe not for long. If we can just somehow convince them..."

Nina shakes her head as she flitters over to the window and looks out at the complex above them. "The only way would be if Newtypes truly existed. Remember that no one, despite all your efforts, has displayed Newtype powers."

"What about you?" Seph asks her.

"That was not of Newtype origins," Nina points out. "It felt more divine than anything."

The President growls as he looks down. "There has to be a way..."

But no one has an answer.

There is only silence.

* * *

 _I had to admit, I was pissed off as hell._

 _None of us had expected things to go downhill like this._

 _But there were some good things that came out of it._

 _Hunter it turns out had been right on the whole thing regarding the AIs Pi and Vax. They_ had _implanted bits of their data into the quantum supercomputers we had. So we decided to use that to our advantage and backtrace it so we could block them. We set up over five hundred different firewalls, each one designed to randomly change code so as to keep them guessing. And if one was breached, the rest then shifted codes, and it was totally randomized. That meant we also had to them initiate a wipe protocol. It turned out to be the best decision I ever made, despite the loss of over one hundred years' worth of efforts. But some spooks up in the intel department had thankfully painstakingly written everything down so as to restore it. I had to admit, my predecessors were not kidding around when it came to those damn blokes._

 _So I took the chance to sneer as I watched their data being wiped. And strangely it was like the fragments writhed as they were wiped clean. I was baffled, but there was no other explanation other than that those fragments had been linked to the AIs._

 _Personally I didn't even feel pity for them. They were ex-criminals who uploaded themselves. At least that was our current theory. We just didn't have any data on them, least of all death records. So we had to assume that until we had more data. However, we did get something else that happened. Something even better than we had expected..._

 _It happened three months after the discovery of the AIs' fragments in our system. I'm still not sure as to what caused it to this day, but... whatever it was, I am glad it happened. As for what it was, well... it was the best thing to ever grace this nation._

 _And it concerned a particular someone who was watching from above..._

* * *

 **Location: Anaheim Electronics R &D Division, Sydney, Australia - Australian Confederation**

 **Time: 1700 hours**

 **Date: Monday, 18 April, 0142 AF (2163 AD/0100 ADD)**

To Seph, it's incredibly ironic as to how much _Gundam_ has influenced the lives of the people of the Confederation. Their very society is now becoming more and more advanced, and they have successfully developed real life mobile suits. And to go with it, several new companies have been started, one of which is Anaheim Electronics of _Mobile Suit Gundam_ fame. The real Anaheim, however, is solely a mobile suit development company. A bunch of other companies, like a real life Zeonic had been formed as well. And each one is dedicated to making parts for mobile suits, including an old aerospace company that has since moved its headquarters to Australia: Boeing.

He watches as a line of GMs is being completed. The only thing missing is the head units, but for the most part they are complete.

Beside him stands the overseer of this particular facility. The man is well under Seph's six foot two, standing at a full foot shorter than him at five foot two. His hair is a dark red with streaks of grey in it and his eyes are a brilliant, almost platinum, silver color. He has a bit of a paunch, and he wears a brown suit with a red tie. Derrick Nelson is in his late sixties, and has been overseer of this plant since it first opened ten years ago.

"I see..." Derrick muses as he looks back at Seph. "I take it everyone else is on board up top?"

Seph nods as he walks, his hands clasped behind his back. "You got it, mate." He turns to look at Derrick out of the corner of his optic. "And I assume you will be ready for your part?"

The overseer chuckles as he unfolds his arms from across his chest and sweeps them out over the factory floor. "Mr. President, we've got the finest engineers, technicians, and nuclear physicists on the team," he says. "We've been making these babies since the plant first opened. And we've long since mastered nuclear fusion technology. So I have confidence we can keep pace with the military's demand for them."

Seph smiles. "Glad to hear it." Then he become serious. "But seriously. We'll be needing all the power we can get with these things. The more mobile suits we have, the better. And I take it you are working on the next project as well?"

Derrick's silver eyes turn to steel as he waves a hand. The President follows him into a separate section of the facility, one that is heavily shielded from any and all prying eyes, whether electronic or not. Inside is a large lab, and lying on the floor before them is a set of tables. Atop these tables are large cylindrical objects, each able to fit inside a mobile suit's hand. One of them is being examined while another is charging up. Off to the side are several rifles, each one being loaded with energy generation technology.

The leader of the Confederation narrows his eye at the scene before he turns to Derrick. "What's the status?"

The overseer smiles thinly. "As you can see, sir, the beam sabers are complete. We finished testing them some time ago, as you remember, and have installed them on all subsequent mobile suits developed here at this facility. But the beam rifles we are still trying to perfect." He gestures to where a large target has been set up. One of the rifles is manhandles into firing position and a large robotic arm - one of those once used to lift heavy goods - grasps the trigger. A technician manning the robotic arm remotely commands the arm to prepare to fire as personnel scurry behind shielding and several large crates. The technician gives the command to fire, and the trigger is pulled.

Seph's eye widens as the rifle fires, sending a beam of energy right for the target plastered on the thick concrete wall. The blast strikes it, but the gun is overheating, as people are scurrying back to the weapon and opening release valves to expel the heat. The room becomes stuffy and Seph has to adjust his optic to see through the steam.

"I can see why you're hesitant about equipping the beam rifles," he remarks. "What about slug weapons?"

"You mean conventional guns?" Derrick asks.

Seph nods.

The overseer rubs the back of his neck. "Well, that's not really my department. I handle the manufacturing of mobile suits and testing of beam weaponry," he says uneasily. "Sorry."

The President frowns. "Hm. Okay. Well, I'll have to get in touch with the proper department then. Regardless, you're doing a good job," he says. "Keep it up."

Derrick nods as Seph leaves the room.

And just in time, too.

His commset beeps and he reaches for it absentmindedly. He brings it up to his face. "Go."

" _Sir, it's incredible!_ " the voice of his secretary blurts.

Seph winces and pulls it back. "What's incredible, Nancy?" he asks.

" _You have got to get down to the church! Sister Nina says its urgent!_ " Nancy Sanders remarks. Her image comes up on the small screen, her green eyes bright with excitement as her magenta hair falls around her face. She clearly looks like she's been jumping for joy, he muses.

"All right. I'll be right there," he says.

He closes the commset and turns to face Derrick. "Sorry, mate, but I gotta bolt. Something urgent came up."

"I understand," Derrick says as he holds out a hand. Seph takes it and shakes his hand in his firm grip before departing.

He is ushered out of the facility and gets into the Beast rental limo. The door is shut and he looks out as the car weaves its way through the streets of Sydney towards the oldest church in the city, St. Philip's Church.

The building has since undergone some changes since the end of the Apocalypse War. It is still for the most part of the same design as it was Before the Fall, but vines and ivy have since crawled up its sides and front, adding a little touch of greenery to the old Gothic style construction. The windows, once glass Gothic style, have now been replaced with modern windows, making the building a true hybrid between modern and old. A parking lot has since been added, so as to allow churchgoers to come and go as they please.

The doors are open as the rental limo pulls into the parking lot. Seph is out in a flash and breaks into a run, his eye fixed on his destination. He runs into the old building, his boots echoing loudly on the marble flooring. He almost slams into a startled civilian, but quickly ducks down another hallway and emerges into the pews of the church. It's the last service of the day, and Sister Nina is gathering up her prayer books into her arms when she sees the President come into the room.

"Nina!" he bellows.

She looks over, and her eyes widen. "Oh! President Matthews!" She puts her prayer books down and flitters over to him. Her eyes are alight in excitement and - dare he say it, disbelief and awe - as he comes to a halt, almost falling on his face if he doesn't catch himself in time. He looks up as she seems to float to a stop, something held in her hands. "You won't believe what happened!" she exclaims.

"Whoa! Hold on! Let me get my bearings first!" Seph remarks as he stands up straight. He takes in a breath and lets it out as he adjusts his uniform briefly. Then he looks at her directly. "Okay. Now tell me what happened."

Sister Nina holds up the object in her hand, and Seph's eye widens in shock.

In her grasp is a single data drive. At first glance, it seems like a normal data drive, but when Seph holds out his hand to take it, he suddenly pauses. His optic fixes on the drive and he scans it with the built in sensors, examining it for anything that could be a threat, such as an explosive or poison capsule. But nothing is detected. His eye narrows as he takes it, holding it in his hand. The only unusual thing about it, now that he's looking at it closely, is the shimmering, faint glow around it...

He yelps and drops the drive onto the floor of the church. It lays there harmlessly, but Seph isn't too sure about the light around it. "What the bloody hell is that glow?" he asks the priestess.

Nina smiles as she picks up the data drive and hands it back to him. "That, Mr. President, is the answer we need." She gives a cryptic wink as he frowns.

The drive's case is pure white in color, with faint accents of gold, silver, and blue on it. In addition, the light seems to becoming not from the drive itself, but the _case_. He does a quick scan of the chemical composition of the case to see if it's radioactive, but there is no sign of any radioactive substances in the case. It seems as if the plastic cover is responsible for the glow, like it was painted with it. On a hunch, he scrapes at it with his left thumb, trying to see if he can chip the paint, only to be surprised when there is no paint visible.

He looks at Nina in shock. "You gotta be bloody kidding me..." he rasps, realization starting to dawn in his eye and optic. "You have _got_ to be bloody _joking!_ There is no _way_ in hell that this can be from him!" He jerks the drive as he says this.

But Nina keeps smiling. "Sir, that drive is from someone who wishes to assist us. And... I got this, too." She removes her hand from her robes and holds out a piece of paper folded in half. Seph is confused as he pockets the drive and takes the paper.

He opens it and his eye widens as he stares at the bold letters on the paper.

 _My dear child._

 _I have heard your plea._

 _But alas... I cannot do much to influence the realm of the mortals._

 _I have seen how destructive your species - my children - has become in my absence. And the downfall of a great nation only harkens the end is near._

 _Dear child, I understand your anger and frustration. I too am disappointed. All that I have worked and hoped for has been for naught in the new day and age that now exists. My first child, Jesus Christ, is immensely disappointed at the state of the world now._

 _You have every right to seek what was lost. And thus your mission has been successful on a few occasions, only to be thwarted by that which resides inside the darkest of hearts._

 _I refer to the woman you call Viondra DeWynter and the two creations that were once human criminals. The DeWynter line has a troubling past, and their ambitions only grow colder and darker as time marches on. Their criminal dealings only show how dark their spirits are. And the Snow line... the ones who started the tradition of master servant relationships between the Districts and Capitol... they only sought to continue their lineage and keep the world in ignorance of what needs to be done._

 _Your determination is great. I can see that. But even your will is only finite. Despite how much you have endured, you are still a mortal. And yet, I can also sense within you a spirit unlike any other. A spirit that calls for justice._

 _Justice for those who have suffered._

 _Justice for the world._

 _Justice for those who have been victimized._

 _Justice for a nation slain in war._

 _And justice for the children who died in that act of violence disguised as a festival._

 _Your hopes for a world of peace and respect for children's rights is great. You seek to bring the DeWynter line to justice, to have them be judged in a place appropriate for ones of their status._

 _A wish I cannot fulfill on my own in the mortal realm._

 _I have seen how low people have fallen. And I have seen new people rising up from the ashes for a better world._

 _I had such high hopes for your kind, my child. But after seeing your acts of defiance against the evil of men's hearts, I can only conclude that maybe there is still a chance to save it. So... I am willing to take a chance on you. I have stopped paying attention to the future of my children since the end of the war. So I cannot say what will happen. But I do know this._

 _This drive I have sent to you. It contains all the data you shall need to defeat the DeWynter line. And as an added bonus, I have gifted it with a special program designed to break one hundred years of mental brainwashing. It will affect only those who have fallen under the Devil's Song. All will hear it, but only those who lack empathy and compassion will be affected._

 _I sincerely hope you can convince the world to heal these divisions._

 _God_

Seph is shocked.

The Big Guy Himself has heard their cry.

He slowly lowers the letter and hands it back to Nina in stunned silence.

Once she has it back, Seph manages to speak, his voice barely a whisper. "How...?" is all he can ask.

The priestess folds the letter and stows it in her robes before speaking. "All I can say is that after five years... we may have a bloody chance after all," she says seriously. "I didn't even take a look at the data drive, so I can't say what's on it. That's up for you to see."

The President clenches his right hand around the drive as he stands up straight. "You damn bet I will!" he states. "Thanks."

"Don't thank me," Nina says as she waves her hand dismissively. "Thank the Lord above for this chance."

* * *

 _I had to admit, to hear that God Himself was getting involved in a way was a shocker._

 _I mean, hell... it seemed like something out of an anime! But in truth, it only showed how bad things were going to get unless we won against DeWynter somehow._

 _As soon as I got back to Meldney, the first thing I did was check the drive. And oh, boy..._

 _It was_ loaded _to the brim with data._

 _I was in shock as I looked it over. At that point, I called in my entire team: my best friends and wife, and the rest of the Confederation. When they learned of the news that week, they were in shock much like I was. In fact, Minaguma outright said that this was impossible, that God had not shown any sign of even_ existing _, and to suddenly show proof right now was unheard of._

 _That was just the excuse I needed to show her the data drive, along with all the data it contained. President Yu was also in disbelief, but Largina was adamant that it was real. A surprising thing, coming from him. I admit, I was still skeptical about the whole thing, but after seeing what the drive contained, I wasn't so sure that God was just a figment of when we used to believe in such a thing. The truth was that there was_ something _above us, and we just needed a wakeup call to what needed to be done to heal the world._

 _And it all started with the eradication of the DeWynter line._

 _So that evening, I put out a call for the other members of the global community who were on our side to meet at Meldney as soon as possible. Thankfully there were no Council of Nations meetings scheduled that week..._

* * *

 **Location: Meldney Complex, Canberra Ruins, Australia - Australian**

 **Time: 1300 hours**

 **Date: Saturday, 23 April, 0142 AF (2163 AD/0100 ADD)**

Seph is standing in the middle of the office as he waits. His hands are clasped behind his back as he faces the window overlooking the horizon in the direction of Sydney. Behind him sit the rest of the Confederation leaders, including Sister Nina.

The door opens in less than five minutes. Seph turns to face the newcomers to the meeting.

First is King Lawrence III of the UK. While he looks older, he is still going strong. His face is lined with more wrinkles, and his eyes are a bit more sunken, but they still burn with drive and determination.

The Queen of France, Sasha le Fleur, is next. While she does wear the robes of her House, she also wears underneath them a military uniform, a throwback to the old days of Pre-Revolution French nobility. Her hair is tied back in a neat braid, and atop her head she wears the crown of the le Fleur House, a simple golden band with a rose on its front. She carries with her a sword at her side, a mark of her training as a soldier during her youth.

Next up is the President of the Egyptian Union, Aali Wasi El-Ghazzawy. He too is older, having just recently won reelection. He is dressed in a beige suit with a red tie, his blue eyes hard as he scans over the rest of the assembling leadership. He doesn't say anything as he sits down at the table.

Prince Teofilo Oleastro is next to take his seat. His hair is slightly messier, but his brown eyes reflect his drive to see his nation thrive in this new world. He is clad in the royal uniform of the Spanish military, and he is armed with a simple spear. While effective against the Badlanders, it is not going to be effective against the Panemian military, Seph muses grimly as he shifts his gaze to the next seat.

That seat is taken up by Director Rubens Belo of the South American Protectorate. His eyes narrow as he takes in his fellow leaders with a critical gaze. If anything, Seph can understand his hesitance to even be here. But now, there is no choice. This is nearing the final days of the Hunger Games. He can tell that much, and he doesn't even need to be a Newtype to sense it.

Seph steps closer to the center of the table as the door hisses shut behind Director Belo.

Now that the men and women have arrived, he can begin.

He takes in a breath and lets it out. "Okay. Normally I would give some minor speech and all, but this time, I don't see the point. Not since this meeting has to be one of the most critical in history," he begins.

"And what makes it so critical?" King Lawrence asks. His eyes narrow a bit. "You never even said what this meeting was about."

"Actually, there's a good reason for that, mate," Seph says as he reaches into his pocket. "Earlier this month, Sister Nina got a surprising vision... as well as something that Panem would _kill_ to prevent us from knowing."

Murmurs fill the room as he pulls out the data drive. "This... is what Panem would kill to get from us."

"That's what you called this meeting about?" Belo asks, his eyes mere slits. "Just a minor data drive?"

But Seph shakes his head. "No, mate. This meeting is about the _contents_ of this drive, as well as the one who gave it to us."

Everyone is silent as the President jacks the drive into a data port on the table. At once the center lights up and the screens at the seats flicker on, each displaying the contents of the drive. The group is surprised at the sheer _amount_ of data that is streaming into view.

"This drive was, as strange as it sounds, given to us by someone..." Seph's voice trails off as he uncurls his right index finger and points up. "...up there. And I'm not referring to those idiots in the Capitol. I'm referring to God Himself."

Everyone at the table blurts out various exclamations, but Seph holds up his hand and they fall silent. "Look. I know it's hard tp believe, and trust me, even I'm still in shock over it. But the truth of the matter is that this drive _was_ given to us by God, and even He Himself is disappointed at how bad things have become. And actually, this proves that He _does_ exist, something Panem's leadership insists is impossible. This drive is proof of that, as is the program you see on your screens."

Director Belo is the first to spot it. His eye narrows as he scans it over, examining it in detail before he looks up. "How can you be sure this is not some sick trick pulled by someone from Panem?" he asks. "You know as well as anyone what they are capable of."

Seph nods. "True, but if you think about it, mate, there is data in there that even _we_ couldn't get. And that's saying something," he says. He taps the screen in front of him and the next set of data comes up. This time it depicts Panem's criminal underworld and how they are connected to Viondra. "This is something we had no intelligence on until now," Seph admits. "And this is data that we sorely needed, because now we know that in order to truly disrupt their master-servant mentality, we have to disrupt this criminal underworld and its connections to the DeWynter line."

"Hm." Director Belo's eye is hard, but he does see Seph's point.

Queen le Fleur is hesitant to even make such a call though. "Monsieur Matthews, I have to ask. Is it possible that disrupting it may make things worse?" she inquires.

"Maybe, but maybe not," Seph remarks with a shrug. "But we do know that it's how the elites were able to maintain power for so long."

"And what of the Games? What does this have to do with them?" Oleastro hisses. "Because I would kill to slice their heads off!"

"I know how you feel, mate," Seph growls. "But believe me, we'll get there. There is also on this drive data pertaining to their so-called AI 'Gamemakers'. Data that has only confirmed a theory we have had about them for some time now."

"And that theory is?" Minaguma inquires.

Here Seph's eye darkens as his optic flashes red. "That they were originally humans who digitized their minds to avoid Death."

The room goes increasingly cold at those words.

And no one knows what to say to that declaration.

"You mean to tell me that this whole time they've had _humans_ posing as AI?!" King Lawrence blurts.

Seph nods, his optic flashing as he gazes at everyone. "Yes. As hard as it is to believe, it's true. They also bugged our networks, so... we wiped it clean. Thankfully our spooks wrote everything down by hand, and I mean _everything_. So we're still good on intel."

"Just one question. How were they even able to upload their minds to begin with?" Director Belo asks. His eye is hard as he places his tented hands in front of his mouth. "It seems to me very odd they'd have the technology long before the current age and tech levels we have."

"I have a very good idea as to how," Seph muses as he looks at his fellow leaders and allies. "But it's only a theory until we can confirm it."

The French queen's eyes flicker as she shifts in her seat. "Then care to tell us?" she asks.

The Australian is silent before he looks down. "According to the data on that drive, the Panemians back after the war had sufficient technology hidden away at what was once called Cheyenne Mountain Military Base - now called the Nut by the leadership and elites. That technology was also hidden away at Area 51, which is now a top secret research base for muttation development. Some of the tech hidden at Area 51 was transferred to the old Cheyenne Mountain base, where it was put to use after the First Revolution," he explains.

"And this theory ties into that tech?" Oleastro inquires.

Seph only nods.

"Then you mean to tell us that some of that tech... was... able... to..." Oleastro's eyes widen as he suddenly grasps the implications of what the Australian is getting at. "Oh... God..."

The President is grim as he continues. "My theory is that they possessed technology to effectively digitize a human mind and turn it into software. But since it takes a long time to do so, they never revealed it until the criminals Vi and Pax were near death. Upon learning of it, they decided to use it and thereby cheat death."

"So that would explain it then!" Minaguma whispers. "It would explain every move she made against us!"

Grim silence fills the room. No one is sure on how to speak about this new revelation and theory.

At least until El-Ghazzawy addresses the group.

"With this information in mind, it is clear to me that if these Devil Spawn continue to exist, they will torture and effectively brainwash future generations to continue their insidious 'Games.' Therefore we must start preparations for the future conflict, if it is inevitable," he mutters.

"Mate, you have no idea _how_ right you are!" Seph says suddenly. His green eye hardens into an emerald as his optics flashes bright red. "There _will_ be a war. That much is certain. But what we need to do now is assume that it will be the last one. If it fails... then all is lost!"

King Lawrence is unsure of this, but he nods. "I can only concur. So, what is your plan, President Matthews?" he asks.

Seph jabs a finger at the data drive. "That data drive right now is our biggest weapon against Panem. It contains data on every military asset in this region and then some. It even has locations of every missile silo and muttation pod in the world. That is something they would kill to keep secret. So our mission has to be to remove the muttaton pods from play. But we can't let them know we are onto them. We'll be sending troops abroad for humanitarian reasons, but among those troops will be sabetours to take down the pods' release mechanisms. That is the primary mission there.

"The second objective will be to prepare for the upcoming confrontation between the Districts and Capitol." He holds up a second finger. "Last time we failed to intervene because our leadership didn't want the Snow Dynasty to learn of our potential power. But no longer will we hold back. We have the strength. We have the technology. We have the mobile suits. And we have the drive. We possess things Panem does not, and we also have something else that they lack: humanity. While it may seem better, it's getting _worse_ instead of better!

"And that brings me to my last objective: to wipe out DeWynter, someone has to go in and take her out directly." Here Seph holds up a third finger. "That person will be the one to wipe her smug grin off her face. And that person will also have to deal with being labeled a war criminal, and bear the responsibility of doing a great favor, but also a terrible act that could throw Panem back into anarchy."

"Who will that be?" Tina asks, although she has a feeling as to what Seph will say.

"That will be me," Sister Nina says, suddenly butting in. Seph is surprised as he looks at her.

"What?! Why?" he asks.

"Because she is the Devil, therefore it must be someone who is an angel at heart," the priestess says seriously. Her eyes are hard as she looks at him. "President Matthews, I must inform you that your role is not to kill her, but to bring down her regime and legacy. You also have a unique duty to expose her insidious goals and actions to the world as a whole. So this way she can be brought to justice by the global community, as well as those war criminals of Vi and Pax."

"Hell no!" Seph blurts.

"I am serious, Seph!" the woman shouts. "Your duty is to the world as a whole! My duty will be to kill the Devil Woman in the flesh!"

For a moment there is silence as the two stare at one another. Seph is silent as he looks at her, his eye hard. But Sister Nina doesn't back down. She narrows her blue eyes, and then she speaks again.

"I know you want to kill her yourself. I can see it in your eyes. But that is not what you must do. Your duty has always been to defend the innocent and heal the future," she says. "My duty is to spread the gospel to all who deny it. In slaying DeWynter, I will be saying that God does exist, and that Panem's disrespect of children will not stand. It will show them how low they have fallen. And that it is up to them to heal their shattered psyche and souls."

Seph looks at the priestess, everyone else watching in anticipation of a confrontation.

"Fine..." he mutters. "I don't like it... but I have to admit you have a valid point. So it's your job. But if she lives..." Then he looks up. "I finish her myself."

"Agreed," Nina says. She holds out a hand. "If I die and fail, it falls to you."

The two shake on it.

"Now, back to the matter at hand," Director Belo remarks. "What is the plan to get past Panem's defenses?"

Seph smirks as he sits back down and faces the others.

* * *

 _The meeting ended rather well, and on a good note._

 _But in all honesty, I wasn't sure if we could even win this one. Panem was at a tipping point. We could see that after tapping into their internet._

 _Rebellion was brewing again, and therefore we had to step up our game. The State Department was already working double time to keep up with things and also to keep Panem from trying to break into our networks again. Thankfully the firewalls did their job in keeping Vi and Pax out of our networks._

 _But it was also close to one hundred years of those damned Games._

 _I was sick of it all. All the death of children by other children. I wanted to end it._

 _But unfortunately we couldn't do much of anything at the moment due to the need to keep what satellites we had saved hidden from Panem. DeWynter was a cunning one, I had to admit. But now we had an edge._

 _And the world was starting to take notice as well._

 _De Kaamp was ousted a few months after the meeting, finally overcome by the people who he had treated to harshly, backed up by a group of GMs lingering behind the wall's remains. The entho-state he created had fallen to the wayside, becoming an old relic as the old guard in power tried to hold on in the face of overwhelming protests and rebellion. People protesting, bombings, lynchings of police and soldiers loyal to De Kaamp, and even outright riots filled the cities and streets. But there was also hope there, as people were finally trying to rebuild what they had lost in their cultural identities._

 _It also was a huge surprise to the rest of us as to how quickly the coastal Republic of China ballooned into a powerhouse. The wreckage of buildings was being removed and rebuilt in some cases, while streets were being repaired. A fully functional economy was up and running, and bartering had fallen to the wayside there. A strong presence close to the old North Koreans kept them in check and away from the rest of the Confederation. The people there for the first time had been given a measure of hope, and although the older generations were way more cynical, it was the younger generation that had been given the hopes they had been so deprived of._

 _But it was still uncertain. And the winds would always shift and change in this world. In a way, it resembled that old Pre-Apoc show_ Game of Thrones _or something like that. But things were finally starting to solidify and become somewhat consistent. That was what was needed. Consistent borders, leaders, and policies. And it was a start for healing, too._

 _Not that DeWynter even noticed it._

 _And that was the advantage we needed._


End file.
